The Amell Legacy
by Celestial Chaos
Summary: Sequel to Reversing the Calling. Slash. Thayer Amell's story continues as he fights to regain what he lost. What happens when he discovers far more than he bargained for in the process? How much can one person take before they break from the pressure?
1. The Warden Commander Returns

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone! I'm back, after taking a nice little hiatus to relax and recharge by just writing without a deadline. I caught a second wind with the story and have stopped at a point right now about ten or eleven chapters in, which means I can post comfortably and still have a cushion so hopefully there aren't any massively long wait periods. **

**This story as you might expect by the summary is a sequel to the story I wrote called "Reversing the Calling". I would recommend reading the previous story first prior to this one. And if you already have, then welcome! Please enjoy!**

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><p>Thayer Amell remembered the day so clearly in his head when everything went wrong. The day when his pride and fear of mortality made him lose the one thing that mattered the world to him.<p>

_Blood magic, right under my nose! How could you lie to me like that? To my face? I can't believe you!_

Alistair's words would forever remain burned in his mind, doomed to replay day in and day out. Even now, over a year and a half later, they hold the same amount of force and pain they did back then.

_It's unforgivable, Thayer. I can't stay here any longer, not knowing what you've done. _

And that was the end. Alistair walked out of Vigil's Keep, never to be seen or heard from again.

That painful memory had been enough to push him over the edge—enough to fuel him to ensuring himself that he'd find a way to reverse the Calling and prove to Alistair that it was all worth it.

In the end, he'd gained a lead. Nearly a dozen of failed experiments later, and he'd _gained a lead._

Nobody knew it, of course, as the only person who knew he'd dabbled in blood magic had left them high and dry. Though Oghren, Zevran and Leliana had all been there, and had all helped him in slaying the Architect, none of them had understood the importance of one sentence that had changed Thayer's focus completely:

_The blood of Grey Wardens can disrupt the connection between darkspawn and the Old Gods, much like our blood helps your kind connect to them…_

He wasn't proud of what he did after that. He didn't like to think about it, but it reminded him that even leads could be false.

Getting someone to agree to participate in one of his experiments would have been nigh impossible, which had led to some precarious undercover investigations. Thayer had used drops of his own blood to taint the drinks of a few new recruits over several dinners, but to no avail. He'd even gone so far as to enthrall a recruit while she slept so he could try using her blood to reverse the taint within him. That, of course, had ended in a complete failure.

He had played with fire, but he'd given up on caring. His decision to show Alistair it was worth it all had overridden much of his proper judgment. However, months and months of sleeplessness, night terrors and experiments gone awry had amounted to nothing. He had _nothing_ to show for it all.

He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he was ready to admit defeat. Maybe there _was _no way to reverse the Calling. Maybe he'd wasted all this time chasing the impossible.

He thought of Alistair constantly, despite every attempt not to. Oh, how he _wanted_ him. At first Thayer had done his best to pretend the separation did nothing to him. That had lasted briefly. Not having Alistair beside him every night in bed, or in battle, even at dinner—anywhere at all—wore him down faster than anything ever had before. They had become so integrated into one another's lives that Thayer now was one half to a whole.

Alistair was gone. Thayer had no idea where he was, what he was doing. He'd told everyone the warrior had returned to Redcliffe to deal with a personal matter, but that lie had only held up for so long. Once questions began to arise, he claimed Alistair had written him and had chosen to stay a while longer to help Arl Eamon around the estate. Leliana had been hard pressed to believe it at first, but Thayer eventually assuaged any uncertainty.

In retrospect he knew he should have told her and the others that there had been a fight and that Alistair had left, but Thayer couldn't bring himself to admit it. Admitting it meant their relationship was really over. He refused to believe that.

And now he was in a position that left him feeling worse each and every day.

Six months had passed since the attack on the city of Amaranthine and the defeat of both the Architect and the Broodmother. Their numbers had dwindled, thanks to the loss of Anders, Velanna, Sigrun and several others. But Leliana and Zevran, ever the hard workers, had found at least a dozen new recruits, most of whom had survived the Joining and were now full-fledged Wardens.

Everything aside, the day-to-day was getting harder now. Whether it was taking care of repair work for the Keep, training new recruits or working on trade strategies, Thayer rose each morning with a malaise that weighed heavily upon his shoulders. He wasn't himself, he knew that. But he would be damned if anyone picked up on that. They couldn't know.

After getting up that morning and eating breakfast, Thayer went to the throne room within the Keep, preparing to speak with the Seneschal about what tasks needed to be accomplished for the day. There was ongoing discussion about what needed to be done for the farmers whose lands had been devastated by the darkspawn attack. Support from around Ferelden had slowly begun trickling into the keep's treasury, but everyone involved knew it would be years before Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep would return to its original glory.

To his surprise, upon his arrival, a messenger boy awaited him by the door.

"Warden-Commander," he said, "I've a message for you. Here you go."

Thayer took the slightly weathered envelope, thanked the boy and sent him on his way with a silver in hand. Written across the center of the envelope in somewhat crooked script was the title _Warden-Commander Amell_.

"Warden-Commander."

Seneschal Varel's voice caught his attention. He glanced up and saw the older man standing beside the strategy table sitting in the center of the room. He had an amiable smile upon his face.

"Good morning. I trust all is well."

The mage gave a curt nod.

When Thayer approached the table, Varel asked, "Received a letter, then?"

"Yes. Though from whom, I'm not sure."

Discomfort stirred within him. The handwriting looked awfully familiar…but it couldn't be, could it?

"Ah, well, please, take time to read it. I'll gather the business to discuss today while I wait."

Once Varel was a safe distance away, Thayer turned the envelope over, popped open the seal and retrieved the parchment from inside. The note was short, only a few paragraphs, but when he saw who it was from, his stomach flipped.

_Thayer,_

_I'd resigned myself to never writing, knowing that opening communication between us would surely cause confusion on your behalf. I know I disappeared after the battle, and I'm sorry. My reasons were my own. But that isn't why I'm writing. _

_I saw Alistair at the Hanged Man tavern here recently in Kirkwall; he recognized me and called me "that damn apostate", so I'm quite sure it was him. I asked him where you were and he said he couldn't be arsed to care. So, naturally, I asked him if you knew he was here, and I got the same answer. _

_He's a mess. I don't know what's happened, but he needs help. He could barely sit up at the bar. He looked ill. I offered to take him to a safe place and he shrugged me off. I thought you should know. Apparently he is staying here—that's all I was able to get out of him._

_Do with this information what you will._

_Best,_

_-Anders_

No one knew what had happened to Anders after the battle. Thayer had left him to defend the Keep, and upon his return, not a soul could tell him where the other mage had gone. In truth, it had almost felt like a slap to the face. After everything Thayer had done for him, and Anders had run away without so much as a goodbye.

He had resigned himself to the fact that he would likely never see the other mage again. Though the note hadn't specified where he was in Kirkwall, the fact of the matter was he at least had an idea. But what mattered most to him now was that he knew where Alistair was.

Kirkwall. What had possessed him to go so far away? Had their fight really ruptured Alistair so much that he couldn't even stay in Ferelden?

It hurt to think that.

Thayer quickly folded up the letter and put it back into the envelope. He pocketed it, turning to look at the Seneschal.

"Right. So, what's on the agenda today, Seneschal?"

. . . . .

When Thayer returned to his room that evening after a long day of taxing duties, he wasted little time in opening up his liquor cabinet. He recalled that upon his arrival to the keep, he rarely drank. Now it seemed that nearly every other night he was digging around inside the cabinet, trying to find something to help him get to sleep.

He couldn't help but think of Alistair sitting in some rank tavern, drowning his sorrows in much the same way. That he was doing it in the privacy of his own bedroom should have been comforting, but it only made him feel worse.

After pulling out a thin, hourglass-shaped bottle of Antivan brandy, Thayer grabbed a small cup and poured himself a straight shot. He submerged a fingertip into the drink and blasted it with a small wave of frost, giving it a nice chill.

"Much better than ice it would seem, hm?"

The sound of Zevran's voice caught him off guard. Thayer quickly turned around, staring at his bedroom door. There stood the elf, arms folded across his chest.

"May I come in?"

"By all means." Thayer turned back to the cabinet. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"You read my mind, handsome."

The mage prepared Zevran a glass of Antivan brandy, gesturing for the elf to join him beside the fireplace. A well-aimed stream of flame lit up the logs within the hearth, helping to warm up his room.

Thayer wasn't quite sure why Zevran had chosen to come tonight of all nights. He knew he'd become distant over the last couple of months, but he was quite sure it was nothing unexpected of someone who had as many duties as he. After all, he was trying his damnedest to ensure he acted as normal as possible, given that inside, he was twisting and turning in discomfort.

Zevran finally spoke up after a few moments of sipping at his brandy.

"I've decided I'm going back to Antiva soon."

Thayer nearly choked on the swig he'd downed. He coughed. "_What_?"

The elf gave a toothy grin. "You didn't expect me to stay here forever, did you? Not with all of my own unfinished business."

"But I thought you were going to help—"

"Help rebuild the Order and train recruits, yes, I know. And I've been doing my best. But you and I both know that I am no teacher."

"You've only been here a year, Zevran. There's so much more you have to offer."

"Ah, yes, but you have Nathaniel now. He is more than capable of taking my place. I…" Zevran stared at the fireplace for a few moments, then sighed. "I was foolish to think I could escape the Crows forever. I must kill them all if I'm ever to have freedom fully."

Thayer couldn't blame Zevran for looking out for his number one: himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind the mage had always known this day would come, but he'd hoped it wouldn't be so soon.

"Have you told anyone else yet?" Thayer asked quietly.

"No, my fearless leader. You're the first. I will tell everyone at breakfast. I plan to leave tomorrow night." Zevran gave a genuine smile. "It has been a wonderful experience, following you. I knew you were something special that very day you spared my life. And here we are, two years later, and you've never ceased to amaze me. Though I must say…"

Thayer sat forward, curious. "Say what?"

"I never thought I'd see the day you and Alistair would separate from one another's side." The assassin chuckled. "Surely he'll be coming back so he can help you train recruits."

The mage was unsure if that was an attempt to jab out information or if it was a sincere statement. Knowing Zevran's preference for the direct, however, he figured it to be the latter—and that made him feel even guiltier.

"Once he feels Arl Eamon is in a good position, I'm sure he will."

"You two will certainly bring even more honor to the Grey Wardens of Ferelden," Zevran said. He moved to stand. "And I can proudly say I was a part of that."

Thayer, too, moved to stand. He stepped close to Zevran, embracing the other in a firm hold. He hadn't touched anyone since Alistair had left; it felt strange.

He pulled away and said, "You will be missed, Zevran."

"I will miss you all as well. But we all must do what's best for ourselves. I never knew how much I could treasure the idea of a secure future until I met you. Thank you for that."

Zevran turned to walk away.

"Good night, Thayer."

_We must do what's best for ourselves._

Thayer watched the elf as he shut the door behind him. He turned to the large four-poster bed he'd once shared with the love of his life, and that was all it took.

He was going to the Free Marches.

He was going to get Alistair back.

. . . . .

Was this how Morrigan had felt, he wondered? Knowing that you planned to leave, and nobody else?

Thayer had mulled about the details in his head for days now. Without Alistair here, the only person who could continue to run things in his stead was Seneschal Varel. Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep needed someone in charge to continue helping the rebuild, someone whose mind and heart were devoted to the recovery of the people.

And all he could think about was Alistair alone in Kirkwall, drinking himself into a stupor.

He was sure making a big announcement about it would raise too many questions. If he was going to leave, he would need to do it quickly and without hesitation.

He'd spent that morning packing up a travel sack to take along with him. He'd deliberately packed light-another set of robes, some books, poultices. Nothing he couldn't do without at least for a day or two. He would pack some food when he visited the kitchen later.

For now, he needed to visit the Seneschal.

Thayer wasn't sure where Varel would be, so he tried his room first, but to no avail. The Seneschal often spent time in the throne room but he wasn't there, either. Thayer finally found him in the library, sitting at one of the tables with several books laid out atop its polished wooden surface.

"Seneschal?"

The older man turned his head, saw Thayer, and offered a smile. "Ah, Warden-Commander. Please, join me. I was just doing some research."

Though the polite thing would have been to ask what he was researching, Thayer came focused to discuss the matter at hand. He took a seat and cleared his throat.

"I have to take leave from the keep for a while."

Varel blinked, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"I must take leave from the keep for a while, Seneschal. There are some personal matters I have to attend to, and they're abroad."

Seneschal Varel scratched the back of his head. Though curiosity was etched into every weathered crinkle of his skin, the older man did not inquire. He simply nodded.

"How long do you think you'll be gone, Commander?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is that after what's happened here recently, I loathe leaving, but these matters are urgent. I'm sure you'll be able to handle everything just fine in my absence."

"Without a doubt, Commander. Leave the day-to-day to me, I will take care of it. If there's anything of major importance, I will be sure to write to you. Where will you be going?"

Thayer took in a breath. "Kirkwall."

Varel didn't flinch. He nodded in understanding. "May the Maker watch over you in your travels. Should any Grey Warden business arise, I'll work with Nathaniel and Oghren. Have you told your crew?"

"No," Thayer began. "Seneschal, it's…of utmost importance that nobody find out where I'm going. I do not want anyone to follow. This is something I must take care of, myself."

The Seneschal furrowed his brow. "You won't be taking anyone with you? Forgive me, Commander, but I don't think that's a particularly safe idea. Kirkwall isn't exactly the most stable city at the current moment."

A smirk played across Thayer's lips. "You're speaking to the man who defeated an archdemon and took down several Broodmothers, Seneschal. I think I'll be just fine."

Varel chuckled. "Bested as usual. As you wish, Commander. I wish you a speedy journey."

. . . . .

Early in the morning, with the sun having barely risen over the eastern horizon, Thayer stepped out into the chilly autumn air, feeling every bit as nervous as he did all that time ago when he agreed to go with Duncan to become a Grey Warden recruit.

He adjusted his rucksack so that it comfortably rest against his back, keeping his staff securely against him. With any luck he wouldn't have to use it on the journey north, but nothing was ever so easy.

Inside Vigil's Keep slept nearly everyone who had been near and dear to his heart. Not telling Leliana where he was going had been one of the hardest decisions to make—but he knew she would have gone with him, and he needed to do this alone.

_We must do what's best for ourselves._

Zevran's words rang clearly in his head.

This was something he needed to do alone.

_Maker watch over me_.


	2. The Hanged Man

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone :D Very glad to be back, and I'm glad to see you're all excited about my (and this story's) return! I wrote a lot of the earlier chapters of this story ages ago, so as I go through and proofread them, it's kind of like I'm reliving it. I forgot how anxious poor Thayer at the beginning. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I did, let me know what you think! **

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><p>So much for never traveling by boat again.<p>

Thayer wanted so much to forget everything about the week he'd had to endure on the Waking Sea. The unrelenting storms kept the boat in a constant state of rocking, creating a horrendous environment for eating, sleeping—_everything_. By the time the boat docked in Kirkwall, Thayer all but jumped out of his cot and onto the solid ground of the boardwalk.

Every bit of confidence seemed to seep from his pores as he took in the sights of the city around him. He had bought a map of Kirkwall prior to leaving Amaranthine, but nothing could not properly convey the sense of dread and malcontent that saturated every corner. Nobody looked happy, even seemingly at their very best. The architecture was foreboding, daunting. Above, the sky was a dull, thick grey, as if threatening rain at any moment. Worst of all, however, was the smell; something lingered in the air, a scent of staleness that could have easily been mold, or even corpse rot. It was indescribable.

Why, out of all the places in the world, had Alistair come to Kirkwall?

_What if he's not even here?_ A voice in Thayer's head rang.

He chose to ignore it. Alistair was here. His gut told him so.

But could he trust that?

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, wrapping his robes even tighter around himself. The cold air from the Waking Sea continued whipping around him, lashing at his already paled cheeks and ears.

He walked along a stone pathway that guided him and the other passengers from the docks to a large, wrought-iron gate that led to a staircase up and into the city. A small crowd was gathered in front of it. Never a good thing.

Thayer approached with purpose the man standing watch at the gate. Not surprisingly, he ignored him until the mage said, "Excuse me."

His answer was flat, uneventful. "Yes?"

"Is there a reason the city is closed off at the docks? I need to get in."

"What's your purpose here? If it's good enough, maybe I'll let you in."

Having been used to everyone knowing who he was by now, this bout of anonymity that came with traveling almost made him state just who he was. He refrained, however, not wanting to make a public spectacle of himself. If people knew the Warden-Commander of Ferelden were here, he would never get a moment's peace.

"Since when do I have to have a purpose to get into a city?" he asked incredulously.

"Look, Fereldan, not everyone's going to be getting in to Kirkwall. We're already overflowed with your damn peasants and we don't need any more. I don't care if the Blight's over. You need good reason to come into this city by order of the Viscount. Too many of you remain, gumming up our system."

Thayer needed a quick lie. And since being direct appeared to be the preferred method of communication with this man, he went full-throttle.

"I'm not Fereldan, you arse. I am a merchant who works in the city selling finery. I left on some personal business and have since returned. So let me through if you know what's good for you."

The man seemed nonplussed. "If you're a merchant, then how come I don't recognize you?"

"Do you work every shift here at the docks? No? I didn't think so. I don't recognize you, either, so I reckon we're in the same boat."

Thayer and the guard stared one another down for a solid moment before the guard finally gave in. He sighed, rolled his eyes and gestured to a man behind the gate. Within a minute the mage was on the other side, staring at all of the people left behind. Part of him felt guilty for not helping them, but knew he had to get over it. Until people recognized him for who he truly was, he had no intention of invoking his status and title in a land like the Free Marches. Not after what Nathaniel had told him about it.

Once safely out of the guard's sight, Thayer retrieved his map and quickly reviewed where he was. Kirkwall was a massive city, larger than Denerim on a grand scale. He related it almost in size to Val Royeaux, only much less energetic and vibrant. To his dismay its dreary environment had already begun to drag down his mood—which only a moment ago he had felt was near its lowest.

But he was in the city. That was all that mattered.

The Hanged Man tavern was in Lowtown, part of the undercity. If he was reading the map correctly then he just needed to explore deeper within so he could find the place in question.

In truth, looking back, he'd done some very poor planning prior to his trip to Kirkwall. Although he'd gathered necessary items such as rations, equipment and money, he hadn't taken the proper time to figure out where he would stay while here. All of his time had been taken up thinking about what he would do when he found Alistair and how he would convince the other to come back home with him.

Though on most levels Thayer didn't want to stay in Kirkwall any longer than he had to, he couldn't deny that his insatiable curiosity for the world around him was drinking in every single sight he passed on his way through Lowtown. It reminded him a lot of the seedier parts of Denerim he had fought through countless times during the Blight. People of all kinds crowded into every corner, onto every stoop and every stairwell…and many of them looked worse for wear. How were they dealing with this wintry weather in such thin clothes?

Maybe the guard was right about there being too many people in Kirkwall. Thayer had more than enough trouble passing through the streets without bumping or running into someone.

Once he found a relatively open square with space to breathe he double-checked his map. Was he even in the right place?

Thayer's search continued well into the evening. As the sun set and the natural light above faded into the west, he started feeling somewhat ill at ease. At times like these he cursed himself for having such a foul sense of direction.

He usually relied on Alistair for that.

Worrying his lip, the mage finally cracked and asked a merchant for assistance. The guard he'd lied to was assuredly long gone by now. He doubted the woman he'd gone to for assistance would recognize him again in the future. If she did…well, he would worry about that if the time ever came.

She wrote on his map a small pathway for him to follow, which guided him easily to the Hanged Man tavern. He wasn't sure he was in the right place until he saw a pair of inebriated guardsmen stumbling out from behind the thick wooden door.

His heart flipped in his chest. He was basing so much off of a single letter that had no substantiating evidence to support it.

What was it Leliana had told him ages ago?

_Logic uses your brain. Emotions use your heart._

He had to have faith.

He gripped the long handle, pulled it open and stepped inside.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. Whatever noxious scent had lingered in the air outside paled in comparison to the stench within the tavern. Thayer caught whiffs of barley, sweat, smoke—everything mingled together in a malodorous cloud. He couldn't help but lift his hand to his face to help take a few filtered breaths in order to get himself used to it.

He stepped further into the tavern. There were a surprising number of people scattered about, but even despite the spacious interior and vaulted ceiling, the whole inside felt staggeringly compact. He supposed it was because of the numerous circular tables that were strewn around the tavern.

Finding Alistair in here seemed almost akin to finding a needle in a haystack. Dimly lit as it was, he would have to get up close and personal with most of the individuals if he really wanted to make sure he found the warrior. Somehow, he didn't think that the patrons of the pub would appreciate that.

Thayer took in a deep breath. The tavern's scent burned his throat as he inhaled. He shrugged it off. If he didn't keep his focus, he was going to lose his momentum. Losing it in an unfamiliar land with strange people all around him would be more than just troublesome—it could prove dangerous.

Anders had mentioned seeing Alistair here drinking, but he hadn't mentioned if it was at the bar, a table, outside… Plenty of options lay ahead of him. He supposed the best place to start was the bar. As he approached, he thought of asking the bartender if he had recently seen anyone who fit Alistair's description.

_Of course he'll have seen someone like that,_ Thayer thought irritably to himself. There were plenty of tall, stocky blonds who came through here. Just looking around the tavern now he could already count three, none of whom fit the bill for his Grey Warden companion.

The bar remained relatively empty, aside from an olive-toned woman wearing a tight white top and her hair tied up with a blue bandana, her elven companion with his snow-white hair and some man with a thick beard looking worse for wear. Though the occasional patron came up and ordered a drink, nobody seemed to stick around for too long.

In order to better blend in Thayer ordered a mug of spiced mead. With it in hand he stepped away from the bar, finally delving deeper into the tavern.

Given how Anders had described seeing Alistair, the young mage didn't figure he would choose to sit amongst many people. If there was one thing Thayer knew about the warrior, it was that he liked to brood when upset. Alistair would want his personal space so he could sulk in peace. On some level that irritated him, and he didn't understand why. Then again, wasn't that exactly what Thayer himself had done?

Feelings were such complicated things sometimes. It was a wonder he managed to get by, given the lack of experience he had with things of this matter. Living in a world ruled by logic didn't help matters of the heart, and that drove him mad.

"Where are you?" Thayer murmured under his breath, the familiar twang of longing tightening around his heart. Even after all this time…

Background noise filled Thayer's ears as he walked through the tavern—peoples' menial conversations, chairs sliding across the floor, the constant creaking of the entry door as people came and went. He kept his eyes focused as best he could through the smoky haze lingering in the bar. He passed each and every table slowly, moving with purpose but maintaining brief eye contact on each individual upon the way. He circled the entire first floor without any success, which stirred discomfort within him.

What if Alistair _weren't_ here? Anders had said he'd seen him recently and that he was staying here at the tavern, but it had taken Thayer so long to get here. What if, for whatever reason, Alistair had decided to leave? Thayer would have absolutely no way of knowing where he was, or what he was doing.

_He has to be here. _

Was that his heart or his head talking, he wondered?

Thayer approached the stairs towards the back of the tavern, hesitating momentarily at the landing. He watched one of the waitresses wander up with a serving plate of drinks. Was he allowed to go up there? Or was it some sort of off-limits area, servicing only certain patrons?

He didn't have time to be indecisive. If Alistair were up there and he didn't go check, he'd never forgive himself.

The mage waited for the waitress to return downstairs before he made the quick hop up. Once he reached the second level he surveyed his surroundings. This area did seem to be a little more private, with what looked like three or four sitting rooms total. Up here he noticed more guards, still dressed to the nines in their heavy armor. As he passed one room, he took notice of a blond dwarf speaking to a tall, broad-shouldered brunette whose back was to Thayer.

After peering into two other rooms with no avail, Thayer finally came to the last one. It was dimly lit compared to the rest of the spaces upstairs, which limited what he could see buried inside. Stepping in without invitation seemed far too bold, and he didn't want to offend anyone—or worse, provoke them into attacking him. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what he might find inside. This was his last hope for this damn tavern, and if Alistair wasn't there, he'd blow it up in anger.

Well, perhaps he wouldn't _blow up_ the tavern…

Thayer gave himself no time to prepare. He quickly peeked around the corner into the room, waiting momentarily for his eyes to adjust. Inside the dark, enclosed space sat several small, round tables. Most were empty, save for one. Atop the occupied table an oil lamp's flame flickered from side to side. What little light it cast a faint shadow upon the man sitting there, his hands loosely gripping a flagon.

He didn't need to look any closer. The feeling in his heart told him he'd found who he was looking for.

Thayer wasn't sure what he had expected Alistair to do when they came across one another again. He continued to stand there in the doorway, tightly gripping his mug. He felt like he might break it.

Alistair stared at him, but something was off about his gaze. He seemed distant, hazy.

He was drunk.

The mage started to say Alistair's name but felt the sound catch in his throat.

Both men stared at each other. Thayer took a deep breath, and finally was able to talk.

"Alistair."

Alistair didn't respond; he remained still for a few seconds before looking away from Thayer and down at his drink.

After a pregnant pause, the warrior said, "Thayer."

His voice, even gravelly and low as it was, sent a warm flush through the mage's body. He knew it wasn't the right response to have; he couldn't help himself.

Alistair continued, "Am I…ugh…"

Thayer moved closer out of instinct. "Are you what?"

Alistair slowly shook his head back and forth, nearly knocking his flagon over with his hand. Now that Thayer was closer he could see how sunken and bloodshot the other's eyes were, how flushed red his skin was. He hadn't shaved for days—a soft, blond peach fuzz had settled in upon his face.

Despite their proximity Alistair made no move to pull away. He just looked down at his flagon, haphazardly brought it to his lips and took a sloppy drink. Some of it splashed out and down his front. He didn't seem to care to clean it up, even after he put his drink down.

"Must be halluci…nating," he muttered under his breath. He burped.

How was he supposed to proceed from here? He'd played over this moment dozens of times in his head while on the boat to Kirkwall, but seeing Alistair alive, seeing him so _broken_…it had quickly erased any and all planning that he'd accomplished.

Behind him came the sound of shuffling feet. He turned his head and caught sight of a man and a woman stumbling past in the hall. They stopped, stared, and then quickly disappeared into another room. Thayer was glad for that; this was a private moment, and he wasn't about to have it ruined.

He looked back at Alistair, finally moving in close enough to take a seat beside him. He set his drink atop the table. Alistair turned to face him and drooped forward, nearly knocking his head into Thayer's collarbone.

The mage sighed quietly.

"You're not hallucinating," he said. "I'm here. We're in Kirkwall."

"It can't be you," Alistair murmured. He drooped forward once more, and this time his forehead made contact with Thayer's shoulder. "It _can't_ be you. You're…you're in Ferelden."

"No, I'm here. I promise."

"Smells like...you…you smell like cinnamon. Mmm."

Alistair attempted to pull back and lift his head up. He ended up pushing himself harder into Thayer's body, causing the mage to shift so he could keep his place. They were in a strange position between their two chairs with Thayer supporting the majority of their weight. Try though he might, it was getting increasingly difficult. Alistair was much larger than him.

But at least he was _talking_ to him.

It was sad on some level, he thought, that he could be happy about that. After everything they'd shared, and he was scared that Alistair would never want to speak with him again because of their falling out.

Thayer looked down at his companion. Alistair was breathing evenly, his eyes half-lidded. He was starting to fall asleep.

They needed somewhere private to go.

He hoped somewhere nearby had rooms available…


	3. A Heartfelt Reunion

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone! Here is the beauty that is chapter three...officially known as the Thayer and Alistair reunion chapter! This is the part we've all been waiting for, and the most fun I've had writing in quite some time. ;) I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do! This is my first foray into writing a character other than Thayer in this story, and my first ever writing Alistair. I hope I did him justice for all those Alistair lovers out there. Hehe. **

**Lots of emotion in this chapter so keep your eyes out. Please be sure to let me know what you all think. **

**FYI: I am in the process of a major move, so this might be the last chapter for a little bit. If the hotel room I'm staying in while I look for a place to live has internet, then it shouldn't be a problem, so cross your fingers!**

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><p>Alistair's head hurt.<p>

No, correction. It more than hurt. It felt like someone had it in a vice, and was squeezing it tightly enough on both sides to make it explode.

He wasn't sure what time it was, nor where he was. All he knew was that this was going to be another day spent wasting away in the Hanged Man.

It had all started with that day—that infamous day that had shaken him to the core.

How could Thayer have been practicing blood magic? How could he think he'd get away with it? After having seen everything they did on their journey together? The countless maleficars who had gone down in flames due to their malicious and sacrilegious use of magic?

Alistair couldn't really remember much of what had happened to him over the last year. Hell, he couldn't even really remember what had happened to him over the last _week_. Each and every day more or less melded together in one long, stream-less flow thanks to the mass amount of alcohol he imbibed. At first it hadn't taken much—just two or three glasses. By now…well, he'd lost count.

When the pounding in his head finally weakened, Alistair braved opening his eyes. Yesterday he'd woken up in an alley somewhere in Lowtown. He wondered where he'd be today.

To his surprise, he saw a ceiling above his head. At least he'd made it indoors this time, he thought.

Alistair carefully turned onto his side to help get a better idea of where he was. He'd learned the hard way that sitting up made him incredibly nauseated. _That_ had been messy. The room around him, though dimly lit, seemed to be the one he'd been staying in. He was surprised to be there, considering that he was late on his rent. Had someone brought him here?

Then he remembered last night.

It couldn't be true. Could it?

Alistair moved to sit up far too quickly in his fervor to discover the truth. He nearly threw up, managing only to stop himself thanks to gripping the sides of his head and closing his eyes. The world soon stopped spinning and gave him the ability to look around him again.

There, lying beside him on the bed, was the one person he thought he'd never see again.

The details of the night before remained a mystery to the warrior. He planned on fully questioning the one beside him on what had happened, but he didn't know if he had the energy—or the guts—to wake him up. After all, when there was a problem, Alistair usually ran from them. _Thayer_ was the one who stood and fought. _He_ was the one from whom the warrior had once gained courage. But all of that had changed after that one night.

Yet here Thayer was.

Alistair let out a quiet whine. He was upset, damn it. He felt betrayed. How was he supposed to continue feeling this way if Thayer had traveled all the way from Amaranthine and had managed to find him? That wasn't easy, considering that he hadn't said a word to anyone about where he was going. Hell, at the time, even he hadn't known.

The warrior carefully ran a hand over his face. Every single motion caused his body to _ache_. His skin felt tight. His stomach lurched anxiously.

He sucked up the pain and knew what he had to do.

"Thayer."

The body beside him stirred. The movement on the bed was gentle enough that it didn't make him feel much sicker; thank the Maker for that, he thought.

Thayer opened his bleary eyes and yawned. He stretched out upon the bed. When he finally seemed to realize where he was and who he was with, the mage sat up, his once soft, vulnerable expression turning slightly distant.

"Ah, I'm…sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was just…"

Alistair's stomach lurched once more. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"A lot of hard work and patience," Thayer replied, scratching his head. He pushed a few strands of his long dark hair behind his ear. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Never better," Alistair lied. In a bout of stupidity he knocked his fist against his chest. He felt a bubbling sensation in his stomach, causing his eyes to flutter. The nausea was overwhelming.

_Fool_, he thought.

"You've always been a terrible liar, you know that, right?"

"I don't need you telling me what I am and what I'm not," Alistair snapped. He immediately regretted it; the rush of blood through his head blurred his vision and made him sick.

Thayer kept his distance, but he laid a hand upon Alistair's thigh. The warrior didn't pull away.

"I'm not here to start another fight. Would I have come all this way for that?"

He made a good point. Still, why _was_ he here? What purpose in the whole world of Thedas did this visit serve? Alistair had made his decision, and painful though it was to deal with most days, he was doing his best to abide by it.

"What _are_ you doing here? I don't understand."

"Yes, you do. I can tell you do." He squeezed Alistair's thigh. "I'm here because I…"

"Because you what?"

"Because I need you, all right?" Thayer said quickly. Then, more quietly, "Because I need you. And I don't want to be without you."

"Well, you made that decision when you resorted to blood magic."

"You didn't even—" The mage stopped himself. Alistair could see the irritation building with him. "You know, I just wish you would have let me explain myself."

Alistair took the time now to slowly remove Thayer's hand from his leg. He did so reluctantly, and let go of the hand just the same. Thayer was always so warm, his skin so soft.

"Tell me one thing: are you still doing blood magic?"

"No."

The answer came quickly, but Thayer's serious expression helped sway Alistair to believe him.

On some level deep down, he didn't want to push Thayer away. He wanted to welcome him back with open arms. He wanted to hold him close and get away from this hell on Earth. Kirkwall had been his prison for over a year now, his only cellmates being his anger and his wounded heart.

Now that sounded awfully corny, didn't it?

Alistair gave the faintest of smiles that ghosted away when he looked at Thayer again. There were so many different things he felt like saying—felt that he _needed_ to say—but he was no good at moments like these. He opted for the only way out he knew.

"You didn't see me throw up last night, did you?"

Thayer snorted. "Maker, no. But you were…well, you were quite drunk. It was a challenge getting you to your room so you could lie down on the bed. You'll notice you're still in the same clothes if you look at yourself."

Alistair did just that, and was still somewhat surprised to note that his clothes remained unchanged. He furrowed his brow. Maker, his head hurt.

"I can barely keep focus. I don't remember anything that happened last night."

"Nothing important happened, aside from me finding you. I have to admit, you worried me. You were incoherent and almost nonresponsive at first."

Alistair's cheeks flushed red. He felt ashamed, but worst of all, angry—mostly with himself for letting it get that bad. But what else was he supposed to do? It was all he'd done for months. In Kirkwall, it was all he knew.

"I'm not proud of what I did," he said after a long pause. He looked away. "I regret what I've let myself become. But you were the one that drove me there. How could you—" Alistair looked up and made a face. "How could you _do_ that?"

"You never let me tell you why. I was trying to help us—you and me."

"How on Earth would using blood magic benefit either of us?" Alistair asked incredulously.

"I was trying to find a way to reverse the Calling."

Alistair stared at Thayer for quite some time. That answer had been unexpected, and confused him on several different levels. How? Why? What? This didn't make any sense.

"Just hold on and let me finish," the mage said. He must have noticed the paleness in Alistair's cheeks that came from his brain working overtime.

"I tried to find a way to reverse the Calling because I was scared. I didn't want to live a marked life. I didn't want to die so early on, so young. It didn't seem fair, not to either of us. We've worked so hard, and defeated an archdemon, and I…" Thayer stared down at his lap. "I just thought that perhaps there was an answer in manipulating magic to help remove the taint from our blood."

There were so many things wrong with what Thayer had just said, but what upset Alistair the most was that it made _sense_. It fell in with Thayer's personality, with his decisions, with his outlook…the poor man was barely twenty-six, just a quarter of a century old. He had less than thirty years left in his life, whereas a normal mage of his background would have probably survived to well over one-hundred.

And this was all because he'd been conscripted by Duncan and thrust into a leadership position he hadn't been ready for.

Alistair closed his eyes. He willed himself not to get angry. It wouldn't do them any good—and Thayer wasn't trying to start a fight. He was simply explaining himself.

"I'm not proud of the things I did either," Thayer continued quietly. "But damn it, I tried my best. I did everything that I could. And without you there, I nearly lost it several times."

Hearing that created an aching burn in Alistair's chest. Abandoning Thayer was the stupidest thing he'd ever done, but there was no taking it back now—no more than the mage could retract what _he_ had done.

"I can't lie to you right now, Alistair. I was given a lead by the Architect…the driving force behind the darkspawn attacks on Amaranthine. I don't know if you remember him, but he gave me another route that I had toyed with trying. He said that our own tainted blood may hold the key. I originally came to ask for your help because I doubted any other Warden would give me the time of day, but I realized…"

He trailed off, reaching down to fidget with the hem of his robes. "I realized that what I wanted more was _you_."

"Your honesty is refreshing, Thayer, but I can't—" Alistair sighed. "Don't you understand that we are what we are?"

Alistair turned to face Thayer completely. The mage looked tired, and even a little ill. His skin was pale, and dark circles hung low under his eyes. He looked as if he'd lost weight, as well. This was a far cry from the symptoms one would see from a blood mage; he just appeared run down and exhausted.

"We're Grey Wardens," Alistair said firmly. "The taint is as much a part of us now as our own blood and guts are. There's no removing it no matter what any sentient darkspawn says. It separates us from the rest of society and gives us a special advantage. I, for one, don't want to get rid of it. The benefits far outweigh the negative. "

"Well, when you put it like that—"

"I know we'll live a shorter life," Alistair continued, "and that we won't get to experience growing old together on a farmhouse porch and all that romantic rot, but knowing what we've accomplished because of what we are…knowing what more we can _still_ accomplish…" Alistair gave a faint smile. "Well, I've accepted it. Have you?"

Thayer looked taken aback. He, however, soon softened his expression and rubbed his hands together. "I think on some level, I didn't want to. But I reckon I just need to focus on the positive, like you have."

He cocked his head to the side. After a moment of silence, he said, "You know, it's funny."

"Hm?"

"Aren't _I_ usually the one giving _you_ the sage advice?"

Alistair wanted to laugh, but just thinking about it sent a rippling pain through his head. "You make a good point. It can't always be you taking care of me, though, can it?"

"No, that's true. It's just an interesting change of pace."

For the first time that night, Alistair and Thayer's eyes met for more than a mere second.

"I'm sorry," Thayer offered. "I'm just…sorry."

"I know."

The two sat in silence atop the bed. Alistair welcomed the quiet, as it gave him time to think about their situation. The truth of the matter was that they were at their best together. Their time apart had _more_ than proven that.

Thayer broke the silence with the question that was on both of their minds.

"What do we do now?"

"I don't know," Alistair replied honestly. "But for the first time in a long while, I can say that I don't feel like having a drink right now."

Thayer smiled. It lit up his face and in an instant erased away the tired pallor.

"We've got a lot to catch up on."

"Let's wait until I'm not quite so hung over. I'd like to actually, you know, _remember_ what you tell me."

"For you? Anything."


	4. Smack to the Face

**Author's Notes: I'm gonna try and fall into a schedule of updating this story once a week or so, energy providing. My muse is kind of split in two right now as I write a Harry Potter story along with this one. I go back and forth... :)**

**Anyway, thank you all for your reviews! I like to make individual notes where possible, so without further ado:**

**Zeeji: Hopefully you got a chance to read the last chapter! If you did, what did you think of Alistair's reaction?**

**DeRez: Thank you so much for your review! Really, it's people like you I write for, the ones who get affected by the story just as much as I do. I'm glad you got a chance to read it the whole way through :) Don't hesitate to leave any comments in reviews on things you liked from the other story, I'd be curious to see your take on some things! Also, I was worried about my portrayal of Alistair, so I'm glad you thought it was good! You mentioned Hawke, btw, so...just...wait and see. *cough***

**Gatorsnacks: Dark Times mod? I don't play the game on the computer but I'm curious! What's that all about?**

**Please enjoy the new chapter everyone! Lemme know what you think!**

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><p>"Does anyone know you're here?"<p>

"No. I told Seneschal Varel that I was leaving on personal business and that no one was to know where I was going."

Alistair worried his lip. "What would you have done? Had you not found me here, I mean."

"I'd have gone back, simple as that."

"And what about Leliana and Zevran? Surely they would have some questions."

Thayer looked away momentarily. "Funny you should mention that. Before I left, Zevran came to tell me he was going back to Antiva."

"Wait, what?"

"He said he needed to do what was best for himself. He's going to kill the Crows one by one so he can claim his freedom fully."

Alistair shook his head. He ran a hand down his face. "That elf. Well, more power to him, I suppose. Hopefully he doesn't get killed in the process."

"Actually, what he said was what prompted me to come here."

"What was that?"

"That we must do what's best for ourselves."

Alistair stared at Thayer for a moment. He turned his head to the side, then smiled faintly. "I'm what's best for you, hm?"

"Whether I like it or not," Thayer said with a smirk.

"You know, one thing has been on my mind since you arrived. How did you know to come here, anyway? Of all the places in Thedas…I could have been anywhere."

Given the negative relationship between Alistair and Anders, Thayer wasn't sure if it was in his best interest to share that information. Alistair had come to Kirkwall because he didn't want to be found, that much was obvious. If he found out Anders given up his location…well, who knew what would happen.

"Rumors, mostly. Word got back to the keep that someone fitting your description was in Kirkwall. I…"

Thayer furrowed his brow. He'd not yet told Alistair the lie he'd spread to help keep the peace about Alistair's disappearance.

"You didn't tell anyone why I really left, did you?"

Thayer remained silent.

"That's what I thought. I'm not surprised; I didn't think you would."

"Are you upset?"

"Depends on what you said."

"I told everyone you left to help Arl Eamon."

Alistair smiled again. "You're quite the piece of work, Amell. I'd have thought you'd raise hell for what I did. I wouldn't have been surprised if you told them I left you to pursue a career in servitude."

"It needed to be realistic for everyone's sake. But it doesn't matter now. We'll come up with what you were doing down there when we go back."

"Going back…" Alistair closed his eyes and dropped his head into his arms atop the wooden table they sat at. He gave a muffled groan.

They hadn't yet spoken about going back to Ferelden, but it was inevitable. Thayer was Warden-Commander and he wouldn't be able to stay away from Amaranthine for long. Even with the threat of the Architect behind him, there were still plenty of things that needed to be done, and things to watch over. On top of that, he doubted Alistair wanted to stay here in Kirkwall given the lifestyle he'd adopted while living in the tavern.

He reached out and gripped his lover's forearm. "I have enough money to support us until we find a good way back."

Alistair lifted his head. "Oh, I'm not concerned about that. I just…what good am I going to be in this state?" He sat up and gestured at himself. "I'm fat and out of shape. I'd probably pass out if I tried to fight like this. Not exactly the best look to have when you're trying to recruit Wardens, you know?"

"Then we stay until you can get shaped up. I never gave the seneschal a timeframe for my return."

"You think the Commander of the Grey can disappear indefinitely without someone coming to find him? Believe me, Varel will send someone eventually."

"All right, mister negative." Thayer folded his arms over his chest. "What do _you_ suggest?"

"Can't we just enjoy the fact that we made up for a little while longer? I've clearly been away from you for too long; you're all business and no pleasure."

Thayer snorted, shaking his head. "Sure. After all, I said I wanted to see more of Thedas, so we should take this opportunity to explore Kirkwall, shouldn't we? You'll have to be my guide."

Alistair coughed, a look of discomfort on his face.

"What?"

"I have to admit, I…have spent the majority of my time in Kirkwall here at the Hanged Man."

Thayer didn't press on the reason why. They needed to move forward. He nodded.

"All right, well, we'll explore together."

He was about to say something else, only to be cut off by the sudden gust of wind and loud squeaking sound that came with the tavern door opening. Thayer couldn't help but look at the figures that walked in.

His heart dropped. He'd recognize that tall, blond haired mage anywhere.

To his dismay, so would Alistair. Even worse, it took him but a moment to piece two and two together.

"Anders! He told you! Why didn't I think of that before?"

Anders followed after a tall, dark haired man with a scowl on his face. He appeared worried.

"Hawke, I really don't think it's a good idea to—"

"Anders, right now, I really don't care what's a good idea and what's not."

"I'm just saying—"

"Really, Anders, just stop. I don't need you babying me."

The man named Hawke collapsed atop one of the barstools, waved over the barkeep and ordered himself a drink. Anders stood beside him, rubbing his eyebrows with his fingertips.

Thayer turned to Alistair. Before he could say anything, the warrior grunted and said, "Always butting into business that isn't his. What's wrong with him?"

"We wouldn't be where we are now if he hadn't, so I think he deserves a pass this time, don't you?"

"At least Carver didn't _die_, Hawke," Anders continued. "Being a Grey Warden isn't the end of the world."

"Being a Grey Warden?" Alistair asked incredulously. "What on Earth is he talking about? Is he putting people through the Joining? Did you—"

"_No_, I didn't teach him how to perform the Joining. And how dare you think that," Thayer said, furrowing his brow. "I don't know what he's talking about."

"Well, then let's find out."

"Alistair, wait!"

It was too late. The commotion Alistair caused by getting up and out of his chair drew Anders' and Hawke's attention. Thayer and Anders shared a knowing look. This was not going to be a smooth exchange.

"Damn it," Thayer muttered under his breath. He stood, followed Alistair over to Anders and Hawke and said, "Fancy meeting you here."

"He doesn't look as drunk as usual," Anders commented, pointing at Alistair.

"Never mind what I look like," Alistair said flatly. "What are you talking about? Who is this Carver? Why is he a Grey Warden?"

"This _Carver_ is my _brother_, and he's a Grey Warden because he contracted the Blight while we were down the Deep Roads."

Hawke's voice commanded attention. Thayer eyed him curiously. He had shortly cropped black hair, fair skin and piercing blue eyes. He sported some scruff along his jaw line and chin. Next to Anders and Alistair he looked like the odd one out. Something about him seemed strangely familiar.

"What in the bloody hell were you doing down in the Deep Roads?" Alistair asked.

"Why do you give a damn?" Hawke snapped.

"Gentlemen, this isn't the place," Anders said, holding his hands up. He turned to Alistair. "What we were doing in the Deep Roads is our business, but suffice it to say, it was as much a loss as it was a gain."

Hawke turned back around and downed a gulp of mead. He growled beneath his breath.

"What are you doing here, anyway? You were supposed to be helping Thayer here in Amaranthine. What, did you just abandon him?"

"Alistair, for the Maker's sake, calm down." Thayer reached out and squeezed the other's arm.

"I didn't _abandon_ anyone!"

"Maker's breath, shut the hell up, all of you!"

Hawke slammed his hand down on the wooden bar. Silence fell over the tavern. All eyes turned to the foursome.

Thayer said, "Now isn't the time for this conversation. Hawke here obviously needs some time alone. Anders, will you join us outside?"

"I don't want to lea—"

"Go, Anders."

The blond mage smarted, but gave a nod. "All right, if you insist."

Hawke waved his hand toward the door. "Please."

As Thayer walked out of the Hanged Man with Alistair and Anders, he felt the piercing stares of the other patrons boring into his back. He hated making a spectacle of himself even after all these years, and that was exactly what had happened here.

He was still brimming from the embarrassment while they gathered outside the tavern beside the front door. Anders and Alistair were staring each other down. Without a second thought to it, Thayer clapped his hands together to draw their attention.

"All right, that's it. I know you two don't get along but obviously we have some things to talk about here. One: yes, Anders told me about you being here, Alistair. It's how I found you. Two: yes, he left at the end of the battle at the keep, and he never told me why. Three: yes, I know it's difficult to swallow, but we're all together again, for reasons beyond our understanding."

Alistair cut in, "You forgot four: why is he talking about someone becoming a Grey Warden? There aren't any Wardens in Kirkwall. That means that _you_ ran across some who were here for a reason." He eyed Anders.

"You're right. I did. Stroud, an Orlesian Warden who's come to Kirkwall before, was down in the Deep Roads. They were on an expedition of their own, but he wouldn't tell me what. Hawke's brother, Carver, was with us down there, and he fell ill with the Blight. If I hadn't been there and hadn't convinced Stroud to take Carver, he would have died."

"Being a Warden isn't a _cure_. It's a calling," Alistair said seriously.

"Funny. That's exactly what Stroud said. But it doesn't matter now. Carver is safe, alive, and has a new purpose. He'll finally stop undermining Hawke and back-talking him."

"So, what exactly _were_ you doing down in the Deep Roads, Anders?" Thayer asked, raising an eyebrow at the other mage.

"I was following Hawke. He's—" Anders paused. "He was helping his friend Varric."

Alistair snorted. "Right. _Helping_ him. What, were you plundering them for treasure?"

"Actually…yes."

"What? Are you serious? You let them go down there searching for treasure, _knowing_ what you do about the Deep Roads?"

Thayer could feel Alistair's indignation, and it was beginning to rub off on him. He eyed Anders warily. "That's dangerous, Anders. I can't believe you let him go."

"You don't understand. Hawke is a very powerful mage. He…he reminds me a lot of you, actually."

Thayer blinked. "What?"

"Garrett—that's his first name—he's a very accomplished mage, considering that he learned everything he knows from his father."

"Great," Alistair mumbled, "One apostate traveling around with another."

"You'd best watch your tongue," Anders quipped. His cheeks burned bright red. "That _apostate_ in there is related to _your_ apostate here."

Thayer and Alistair looked at each other before echoing one another's confused, "What?"

"You heard me. Garrett is related to Thayer. They're cousins."

Thayer couldn't believe it. "That's a very cruel joke, Anders, you _know_ I have no family left."

"It's not a joke!" Anders shook his head. "You're an Amell, right? So is he, on his mother's side."

Alistair stared at Thayer, shocked. "You never told me your parents had siblings."

"I…I didn't _know_," Thayer replied.

"Well, cousins. At least, that's what I think. That's what Garrett told me…"

Thayer felt his chest tighten. Breathing grew a little more difficult as he recalled what little memories he had of his parents, drowning out Anders' voice. Thayer had been sent to the Circle at a very young age. The majority of his memories involving his parents were jagged fragments of varying moments growing up. He had never heard of any aunts or uncles, let alone cousins. He didn't even know about his grandparents. To hear that he had a cousin—two, technically, including Carver—was like a slap to the face.

He would have remembered any mention of family. Thayer had ached for family growing up. This was as much a shock as it was a blessing.

"Are you all right?" Anders reached out to put a hand on Thayer's shoulder but Alistair pushed it away.

"Of course he's not okay, you arse, you just told him he has family when he thought he didn't." Alistair moved close to Thayer and brushed a few strands of hair from his face. "What are you thinking right now?"

"I don't know," Thayer admitted. "I came here looking for you, not…blood relatives."

Anders scratched the back of his head. He winced slightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blurt it out, I was just upset. Garrett's been through a lot these last few days. He's been on edge. It's rubbed off on all of us."

"Doesn't matter now, it's out and we'll have to deal with it," Thayer said. "Or I suppose more simply, _I_ have to deal with it."

"I would advise you to wait a while. He's…somewhat volatile after what happened with Carver. He's likely to not believe you."

"That's where _you'll_ step in," Alistair said. "You told Thayer I was here, so you obviously don't mind butting in to other peoples' business. You might as well interject again."

"You know, I'm getting awfully sick of your malicious attitude, and I—"

"Maker, you two, cut it out! I'm tired of hearing it! No more!"

Thayer's outburst silenced both men. They looked at one another and then at the dark haired one. Thayer covered his face momentarily with his hands and took in a deep breath. "From here on out, everything that's happened in the past is history. It no longer exists. This includes Alistair's drinking, Anders' fleeing, whatever. It's over. We're moving on. Understood?"

Both men offered murmurs of agreement. Thayer could tell they hadn't expected such a reaction, but in all honesty, how could they not? This was important news—even harder to swallow than finding out that Alistair had run off to Kirkwall or that Anders had faked his own death. There were so many questions left unanswered, but right now, only one thing mattered:

Thayer needed a drink.


	5. Discussions

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone! Here as promised about a week later is the next chapter to the story. I do have some great news! As I've been working on this story pretty feverishly since I moved, I've almost completed it. I've already written the ending (I've known how the story would end for months) and am just now trying to play catch up between the chapter I'm on and that chapter, which are about one to two apart. Don't worry, though! This story has a good additional ten chapters left before it ends. :) Whoo!**

**Zeeji: Oh dear, college house hunting, huh? That's always exhausting. I remember my parents going with me, I felt so bad because they weren't any more familiar with the places than I was. LOL. You'll find Thayer struggles with this family concept in a multitude of ways as the story progresses!**

**Gatorsnacks: I'll have to check it out or at least read about it-I'm a console gamer so I don't do mods typically. I like the idea that someone else was intrigued by reversing the taint, though. I can't have been the only one! haha!**

**All righty, peeps! Please enjoy! As always, lemme know what you think. :)**

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><p>Thayer heeded Anders' advice and avoided Garrett that evening. Under the watchful eyes of Alistair he drank himself stupid, and fully regretted it the following morning, waking up with a painful ache coursing through his body. Once he ate a small breakfast and managed to sit up for a while, he began to feel a little bit better.<p>

Unfortunately, he couldn't stop thinking about the news.

A family.

Thayer had grown up knowing that he would never see his parents again. Nobody did when they moved into the Circle. This, however, was still a shock to his system.

He'd spent the first six years of his life with his mother and father in a small village just outside of Redcliffe. He could recall random memories that involved the two of them, but they all involved more feelings than visuals. His parents felt like ghosts of his past, whose images he could barely muster up. Though he would always love them, he had never gotten to really know them.

He remembered the day he got the news of his parents' passing. It was just a month or so before he underwent his Harrowing. A thief had broken into his childhood home and killed both of his parents while they slept, raiding the place for any valuables. He could recall the pain he'd felt that day, brief though it had been. The Circle had taught him how to process his feelings and channel them. He supposed it was the boost of focus that came with their deaths that helped him succeed in his Harrowing. He couldn't be sure.

This was the kind of news he would have trouble processing without a few outbursts. He'd lived the last few years under the impression that he was the only surviving Amell in his family. What upset him the most was how childish and selfish the thought was, and how his parents had planted it in his head. Neither his father nor his mother had ever informed him of any family. Could he blame himself? How was he supposed to know they were out there? It wasn't as if he could go searching for them, trapped in the Circle Tower as he was.

Alistair must have felt this way when he found out about his sister. Discovering you had family when before you'd grown used to being alone was apparently yet another thing they had in common.

The warrior had been kind enough not to push him that day. Thayer spent the vast majority of the morning and afternoon in their room, only emerging at dusk, when the sun had finally begun to disappear. Bright light still made Thayer's eyes smart.

For the first time since the news broke Alistair decided to breech the subject. They were sitting in one of the corner rooms on the second floor of the Hanged Man.

"So…when do you think you'll speak with this Garrett Hawke?"

"Whenever, I suppose. I realize now I never asked Anders where he was staying…nor did he offer up the information. At this point I feel as if he'll have to approach me. Do you reckon Anders told him about me?"

"I think he probably kept it a secret that you're related, but I'm sure he told Hawke how he knows you. Can't imagine someone like Hawke would let that remain a secret."

"He was intense, wasn't he?"

"Yes. And you know, I've seen him around the Hanged Man before. I just never spoke to him. Or anyone, really. Every once in a while he'd be accompanied by Anders…and you know what I think of him." Alistair took a drink of water, making a face. "I didn't try speaking to either of them."

Thayer simply nodded. Things would likely never simmer down between Anders and Alistair. At some point he would talk privately with the other mage to understand why he left. He was still not over the anger he'd felt in reading that letter for the first time. But without it, he would have had absolutely no lead on where to find Alistair. Almost like a give and take.

As he sipped carefully at his water, Thayer glanced across the way into the other corner rooms. Inside sat a blond dwarf with a few other men. They seemed to be playing cards, but he couldn't recognize the game. Maybe it was some special one they played in the Free Marches.

He heard an uproar of laughter as one of the men suddenly stood up. It was the one whose back was to the open archway, and who suddenly turned to throw his cards at the table before him. Though Thayer had only seen Hawke's face briefly, he recognized him immediately.

"He's here now," Thayer said. "Just across the way."

"Well. It's fate, isn't it?"

That was a dry response. The mage eyed his companion, then turned his attention back to the other room. He really didn't want to talk tonight, but he didn't know if this opportunity would present itself again any time soon.

"I'll be right back."

Thayer hesitated briefly before getting up. He had dealt with significantly more than most dealt with in a lifetime, and yet, he was anxious about this. There was irony in this somewhere…

As he approached the room, one of the men sitting at the table quickly got up and headed for the exit. This drew the other men's attention, and three sets of eyes fell upon him, including Hawke's.

"Ah…" Hawke, who was just about to sit down, lifted himself back up again and came to stand in front of Thayer. They were nearly the same height, but Hawke had a bigger build—much like Alistair's. "I was wondering when I would see you, Warden-Commander."

Hearing that formal title on his cousin's lips seemed strange. He felt compelled to tell him he was being overly polite, but in truth, he wasn't. They didn't know each other. He was being respectful.

"Hawke," Thayer said, offering a polite bow of his head. "I don't mean to interrupt you and your friends. I'll be brief. My name is Thayer."

"Yes, I've heard a bit about you. Anders told me this morning. He worked with you in Amaranthine. You recruited him, right?"

"Yes, that's right. He was an excellent Warden. I was sad to see him go."

"Well, we've all got to do what's best for ourselves, right?"

Thayer paused. Yet another person saying the same thing.

"Right. Well, the reason I've come to you tonight is so that we might meet with intent the next time."

"Oh? Is this going to be about Carver, Warden-Commander?"

"That wasn't my intent, but I'd be happy to answer any—"

"Let me tell you something." Hawke held up his hand. "I'm still coming to terms with what I had to do to save my brother. He's effectively out of my life, much like my sister, who was killed by an ogre two years ago. I don't know what you know about loss, Warden-Commander, but I doubt anything you have to offer would be able to console me. That said, if you have a job or something of the like you want me to do for you, by all means, come to my family's manor up in Hightown tomorrow afternoon. I look forward to it. And, if that's all…then I bid you good day."

Thayer watched as Hawke moved past him without so much as another word and headed down the steps toward the bar.

"Broody type, my arse."

. . . . .

This was it.

Thayer stared over his shoulder, watching briefly as Alistair disappeared into the growing crowd. He'd accompanied him all the way up to Hightown, but this was where they parted ways. Alistair would have to entertain himself while Thayer braved the Hawke estate.

He'd had a nightmare last night that ended with him and Hawke dueling for whatever reason. All he could remember was the terrified sensation to which he'd awoken, making him sweat and shiver in discomfort. In truth, while he knew that he'd faced much worse than this, he couldn't help feeling nervous. Family was unfamiliar territory.

After taking a moment to ground himself, Thayer lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles against the large door leading into the Hawke estate. He picked up faint footsteps behind the thick oak door. A few moments later he was greeted by a dwarf with an amicable look about him.

A dwarf that looked _awfully_ familiar.

"Wait," he said, just as the dwarf said the same thing.

"Bodahn?"

"Commander?"

"What are you doing here in Kirkwall?"

"Why, I live here! Been in Kirkwall for some time, now. What are you doing here, Commander? Out on official business?" He clasped his hands together suddenly. "Oh! Are you here to see Ser Hawke? He's been climbing the social ladder, it would seem! Everyone wants to speak with him lately. Would you like to come in?"

"Yes, please. And actually, yes, he's why I'm here."

Thayer stepped into the house and was immediately reminded of Vigil's Keep. The décor was similar, with lavish tapestries draping the wall and antique rugs lining the cherry wood floor. The ceilings, vaulted as they were, seemed to go on forever. Whatever purpose that served, he wasn't sure. All he knew was it certainly had an extravagance to it.

"Wait here just a moment, Commander, and I'll go get Ser Hawke. Please, take a seat on that bench over there."

Thayer's anxiety began stirring within him again the second he sat down on the cool wooden bench. He stared down the hallway in hopes that his wait wouldn't be long.

Thankfully, it wasn't. Not but a minute later, the tall, dark figure that was Hawke came through the archway separating the entrance of the estate from the rest of the home. He was wearing finery—much different than the weathered robes from yesterday. There wasn't much resemblance, but then again, what did Thayer have to compare him with aside from himself?

"Warden-Commander. Looks like you took me up on my offer. What can I do for you?"

Thayer stood up, brushing his hands down the front of his robes to straighten them out. He walked over to where Garrett was standing and gave a polite bow of his head. "I've come to discuss an important matter with you, Ser Hawke."

"Please, just Hawke."

"Hawke, then. Do you have somewhere we can sit?"

"Ah, yes. This isn't the most welcoming spot for conversation, is it?" Hawke chuckled. It was the first genuine expression of warmth that Thayer had seen, and it helped put him at ease. "Let's go into the sun room."

Hawke led Thayer through the estate, guiding him into the sun room. The afternoon sun poured through the large windows high atop the wall, spreading warmth throughout the open area. Hawke gestured for Thayer to take a seat at the oval-shaped table situated directly in the center of the bottom floor. He excused himself momentarily to go up the nearby steps. It wasn't until he heard talking that he realized someone else was up there.

"Mother, the Warden-Commander of Ferelden is here with business to discuss, so if you wouldn't mind going to somewhere else in the house…"

"Oh, honestly, Garrett, it's not as if I'm going to forbid you from talking to people about business after what happened. Although I'll be damned if I let you go near any dwarves any time soon…"

The woman had a pleasant voice, and from the sound of it, she seemed somewhat serious in her admonition. She soon appeared atop the steps leading up to the loft. She had semi-long, graying hair that surrounded her fair skinned, heart-shaped face. The resemblance to Hawke was easily recognizable.

She walked down the stairs with Hawke beside her, and, as was polite, when she came near the table, Thayer stood and offered her a polite bow and a formal smile.

Hawke's mother gasped. Her expression surprised Thayer. Had he done something wrong?

"H-How did you—" She looked at Hawke, then back at Thayer. "This can't be."

"What? What's wrong, Mother?"

"Garrett, he's…" She reached forward as if to touch Thayer's face, quickly stopping herself. "What's your name, Ser?"

"Thayer," he said, purposefully not offering his surname. He'd caught on—she recognized something in him.

"Mother, why are you acting so strangely?" Hawke asked in concern.

"Shh."

Hawke's mother stared at Thayer with such intent that he couldn't bear it anymore. Just as he was about to say something, she spoke.

"You're an Amell."

Thayer simply nodded. A lump growing in his throat made it hard to speak.

Hawke looked taken aback. "Wait, _what_?"

"He looks just like my cousin, Revka. The eyes, the cheeks, the mouth…"

Hawke's mother didn't hesitate this time in reaching out to touch Thayer's face. Her fingertips ghosted over the outline of his cheeks and down his jaw line, leaving him with a faint tingle down his spine. She frowned. Her eyes grew distant, mirroring a deep seated pain.

"This is absolute nonsense," Hawke said. "Mother, he's not related to us. Tell her you're not related to us." He looked at Thayer expectantly.

"That was the business I came to discuss with you," Thayer stated simply.

"Oh, Revka," Hawke's mother murmured, closing her eyes. She pulled her hand away, resting it on her chest. "Even though I haven't seen her for years, I still think of her every day."

"Wait a second," Hawke said. "I thought you said Revka had several kids and that they all went into the Circle. If he's one of them, he shouldn't be here."

"S-Several kids?"

Thayer's heart skipped a beat. _Several_? That couldn't be right. Just yesterday he'd had no family. And now, today, he not only had cousins, but possibly brothers and sisters too?

She ignored Garrett's comment. "Oh, Thayer, our family is rich with magical blood. You should take a seat, dear. Come on, then."

Once they all sat down, Hawke's mother smiled faintly.

"I'm sorry, I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm Leandra. I'm your mother's cousin. We were very close growing up here in Kirkwall."

"I need to tell you something," Thayer began. "I did go into the Circle, but was conscripted out of it."

"I know, child. I know. I spoke with Revka almost every week. I was there with her to console her the day they took you away to the Circle."

"But I thought you lived here in Kirkwall?"

Hawke shook his head. "Mother moved to Ferelden with Father."

Leandra chuckled. "I loved Malcolm, Garrett's father, far more than I loved my life here as a noble in Kirkwall. We eloped. It took years to shake off the Templars, but we managed."

Thayer furrowed his brow. He had so many questions, so many unfocused thoughts and emotions. He'd come here with the intent of learning more about his history, but this was far more complex than he could have ever imagined.

"Your mother told me long ago that she intended to shield you from her life before. It would seem that's exactly what she did." Thayer nodded, and so she continued. "When she first fell pregnant, everyone was so happy. But that child—your older sister, Solona—showed magical abilities right from birth. It was such a spectacle, and our family never quite recovered from it."

"I'm sure it didn't help that you ran off with Father, what, a year after that?" Hawke interjected with a smirk.

Leandra gently smacked her son's forearm. "Revka and your father tried to maintain a normal life here in Kirkwall after that, but a few months later she fell pregnant again—with you—and they fled from Kirkwall to Redcliffe in Ferelden. After you were born and everything started working out for them, Malcolm and I finally decided to do the same. I never looked back then, not until now."

She reached across the table and squeezed Thayer's hand. "The Templars eventually found them—found you—and whisked you away to the Circle. After that, Revka and your father more or less gave in. They knew that any child they had from then on was destined for the Circle if they were magical. You have a brother who got sent there too, just a few years after you. His name was Daylen. It was incredibly hard for them to deal with. Nobody told you about your siblings?"

"The Circle isn't well known for nurturing family connections," Thayer offered. He sighed. "They say it distracts you from your inner focus."

An older sister and a younger brother. Both magical, and both out there in the world. Had they passed their Harrowings? Were they functioning members of the Circle of Mages? Or were they not so lucky and had become possessed by demons and had promptly been destroyed?

The whole concept of having family was overwhelming him. Thayer closed his eyes and took a minute to try and bring himself to center. His heartbeat felt irregular, his palms sweaty. The air around him grew charged with his expelled energy.

"Now, look at _you_," Leandra said, admiration ringing clear in her voice. "The Hero of Ferelden. If only your parents had lived to see that. They would have been so proud."

It was a rude wake-up call to remember that his parents weren't alive to see his accomplishments, especially after this sudden revelation of his other family members. Somehow, after hearing everything he had, it stung that much worse. But perhaps the worst part in all of this was learning that his parents had kept so much a secret from him. Was it really all for his protection? What would it have protected him from?

"Your mind is probably reeling right now. That's understandable."

"Forget his, _mine_ is all over the place." Hawke rubbed his hand over his face. "I can't believe we're related to the Hero of Ferelden. But wait." He looked at Thayer curiously. "How did _you_ know you were related to us if you say your family never told you?"

"If you take a minute to think about it, you'll pick up the idea."

Hawke's eyes narrowed. "_Anders_."

"Mm-hmm."

Leandra smiled. "Ah, that mage you keep bringing around the estate?" She winked at Thayer. "He's very handsome."

Hawke's cheeks turned the slightest bit pink. "_Mother_."

Thayer cleared his throat. "I want you both to know that I'm not here to intrude in any way. Your life is your own. I simply came to find someone important to me. And oddly enough, I've found…so much more."

"Nonsense, you're family. You're not intruding in the slightest." Leandra pat Thayer's arm. "Any child of Revka's is welcome in my home. Well, _our_ home." She smiled at her son. "Right, Garrett?"

"Of course, Mother."

"Do you have any portraits of my brother?" Thayer asked suddenly. "How old was he when he was taken to the Circle?"

"Right around your age, six or seven. I remember because Revka said, 'Will I only get six years with each of my children before they're taken away from me?'"

Such painful words for a mother to have to say. Thayer barely remembered her, but hearing that made him long to see her—to comfort her.

"And my sister?"

"She was taken from Revka here in Kirkwall. I would imagine she'd be here in the Gallows at the Circle of Mages," Leandra said.

Thayer nodded. "The one thing I don't quite understand is why my surname is Amell." He looked at Leandra, scratching at his head. "If it's my mother's surname, shouldn't mine be my father's?"

"Not necessarily, dear. Your mother was very proud of her name and her heritage. Your father married into _our_ family, not the other way around. He chose to take her last name for the prestige that came along with it."

"There's so much I want to ask," he said, trailing off. One question after another popped into his head, bombarding his thoughts and jumbling them all together. He doubted Leandra would have an answer for everything but as long as she could give him _something_…well, that was far better than nothing.

Leandra said, "By all means, gather your thoughts and questions. Tonight, we have to celebrate! Oh, it'll be wonderful. Dinner is usually prepared and served by six in the evening. You must join us."

"I would love to," Thayer said without hesitation. "May I bring someone along? My friend has been patient, but I don't know if he'd be able to deal with me getting a decent meal and him not." He smiled, albeit a little nervously.

Hawke offered a disarming grin. At just the right angle it reminded Thayer of his own, but just barely. "Sure, bring your rowdy friend from yesterday. As long as he doesn't cause a scene like he used to in the Hanged Man, he's welcome in our home."

Thayer momentarily closed his eyes. His head was spinning, but for the first time in a long while, he didn't mind it.


	6. Dinner

**Author's Notes: Internets! I has it! Finally! Sorry for the long wait in posting, everyone, moving has been way more hectic than I ever wanted it to be. But I guess that's what happens when you move from state to state by yourself and work like a mad man. Hehe.**

**Zeeji: I love love love exploring familial relationships. The whole spark to this story actually came when I discovered the connection between the Amells and the Hawkes. I was like OMG YES. And the creative juices started pouring in! Hopefully your daughter has a good idea now of where she feels like she wants to go! :)**

**Gatorsnacks: *steps back from putting glue on floor* Oops...sorry, you weren't supposed to see that. ;)**

**Orpheus Thanatos Messiah: I gotta say, I don't think anyone would mind, either. Both of them were absolute hunks. ;) And the Hawke I made had both me and my fiance making googly eyes. The one in my story I picture slightly different, but yes..um...right. Where was I? *fans self* **

****At any rate, here is chapter six. Hope you all enjoy!****

* * *

><p>Thayer left the Hawke estate feeling more confused and exhilarated than he ever had before. He recalled the last time he'd felt this way: right after being conscripted by Duncan. Much like then, he stood before what seemed like an insurmountable task. This time, it was discovering more about his family and trying to piece together whatever he could.<p>

Part of him desperately wanted to let go and simply not care as much. After all, he'd grown up more or less alone, relying on socialization from friends and mentors. He'd steeled himself to not knowing about his family and the likelihood that he'd never see them again. Now, however, it would seem that no matter how hard he tried to bury that curiosity, it kept bubbling up and taking over his focus.

_So much for being strong-minded_, he thought as he walked away from the estate.

Where had Alistair gotten off to?

Oh, right. He remembered that they hadn't agreed on a meet up point because Thayer wasn't sure when they would be finished. He knew he'd been in the Hawke estate for a while—the sun had shifted significantly west in the sky above.

Thayer wandered through the crowded streets, keeping his eyes out for his tall, blond-haired companion. He knew Alistair well enough to know to follow his nose. Whenever his partner was bored, he tended to go wherever _his_ nose led him. The second Thayer smelled food wafting through the air he started in that direction. He soon found a small, closed off courtyard with several food carts sporting all different kinds of delectable wares.

Sure enough, by the time he passed the second cart, he found Alistair browsing the different plates available.

"Following your nose, hm?"

Alistair gasped in surprise. He turned to Thayer, frowned, and said, "Oy, I don't need your judgment. I got bored looking around town and I got hungry…"

"Well, don't eat too much. We were invited back to the estate tonight for dinner. I imagine there will be plenty to eat there."

Alistair's eyes lit up. "You don't say? Wait, I was invited?"

"Of course."

"So everything went okay?"

"It's a long story. Here, let's get something to snack on and we'll talk in private."

Thayer got them a pair of meat and vegetable shish-kebabs to eat while they walked back to their room at the Hanged Man. By the time they arrived the kebabs were long gone and the mage had all but exhausted the story of what happened with him and his newfound family.

As Alistair opened the door to the tavern for the two of them, he laughed and said, "Are you me? All of this secret family history, so hush-hush, with unknown brothers and sisters…"

"Well, the only difference is that I'm not royalty."

"_Shh_, nobody needs to know that. Your mum was still a noble. That's something."

"If you say so."

Back in their room, Thayer lay back on the bed and covered his face with his hands. This was the first time in hours he'd had any silence, and while it wasn't the ideal environment, he would take it wherever he got it. He'd readily accepted going to the Hawke estate tonight but what would he do afterward? He really hadn't the slightest idea. He had only come to Kirkwall to retrieve Alistair and bring him back to Ferelden. Now he felt like he needed to stay to discover more about his history, his _family_.

Alistair sat beside Thayer on the bed, reaching over to run his fingers through the mage's hair. It was a simple gesture that went a long way, even if Thayer didn't say it aloud. Instead he just shifted on the bed and moved into the touch, bringing himself closer to the warrior's leg.

"It's going to be all right, you know," he said, voice soft and soothing.

"Hm?"

"This situation with your family. I know it's overwhelming for you. There's a lot going on up in your head, I can see it on your face. Want to share with the club?"

"I don't even know where to start," Thayer replied.

And he truly didn't. What good would it do for him to find his siblings? He'd seen what had happened with Alistair and Goldanna. He didn't want to think such a scenario possible between him and his brother or sister, but anything could happen. His journey since becoming a Grey Warden had proven that time and time again.

"Well, let's review the basics, here. Your mum was a noble from Kirkwall, she had three children and they were all mages. Your older sister is what…a year or so older than you? And your brother is six years younger."

"Right."

"Your sister would be a member of the Circle here if she survived her Harrowing, right? That's probably a good place to begin."

"What if she didn't?"

"My, you're morbid, aren't you? Try to think positively, love. If she didn't survive it…well."

Alistair let the thought trail off. Thayer was glad he did. He understood what he meant, however. If she didn't survive it, it wasn't as much of a loss as it could have been. He didn't even know she existed until today. Same with his brother. But inside him, just below the surface, was an aching want for them both to be alive. He wanted to know what they were like, how similar they were, and what interests they shared. He wanted to let them know about his exploits and adventures just as much as he wanted to hear about their lives and their achievements.

"This isn't exactly how I planned on spending my time with you here in Kirkwall," Thayer offered with a chuckle. He needed to lighten the mood, lest he fall deeper into thought and get lost. Again.

"Nobody ever said life was easy, love. You're lucky I'm not the envious type." Alistair grinned down at his lover. "All this attention you're getting would make the average man rife with jealousy."

. . . . .

For the second time that day Thayer found himself standing in front of the Hawke estate. He and Alistair had just come from a clothier, who had dressed them up quite nicely for their dinner tonight. Despite the amount of coin it had set him back, Thayer knew it was worth it. Alistair looked positively regal.

"Are you ready?" the warrior asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Thayer replied. Before he could reach forward and knock on the door it was pulled back, revealing Leandra in an elegant, flowing evening gown.

"Ah, there you are." She smiled, moving in close to embrace Thayer in a hug. He responded after a moment's pause, surprised. When she pulled back, she looked to Alistair. "Good evening, gentlemen. And you are?"

"Alistair. It's a pleasure to meet you, Madame Hawke."

"Oh, please, call me Leandra. Both of you, please, come in."

Leandra led them into the house, moving through the foyer toward the dining room. Every square inch more of the estate that Thayer saw cemented the elegance and refinement that he'd experienced during his first visit. When they arrived in the dining room Thayer immediately took notice of the beautifully decorated wooden table and the low-hanging crystal chandelier that hung above it. It seemed awfully extravagant for a dining area, but in his time with nobles, he'd come to realize that this was considered the norm.

At the head of the table sat Hawke. He offered a polite nod in greeting.

Leandra ushered Thayer and Alistair in to their seats on opposite sides of the oval-shaped table. She took her seat across from Hawke, where she took a moment to situate herself.

"Garrett, this is Alistair. He's Thayer's company for the evening."

"Pleasure to meet you," Hawke offered out of courtesy, though they had run into each other before. "You two arrived just in time. Dinner was just served."

Thayer and Alistair shared a look at the smorgasbord of food available to them. There were several Cornish hens, a bountiful bowl of greens, potatoes and a few other delectable plates of food. It seemed like far too much for four people, but then Bodahn and Sandal soon joined them from the kitchen.

"Everything looks absolutely delicious, Bodahn," Hawke said. "Your skills are never more appreciated than at dinner time."

"Thank you, Ser Hawke. Now, let's eat."

Each and every plate was passed around the table so that everyone could choose what they wanted to eat. Thayer chose a minimal amount mostly out of respect—unsurprisingly, Alistair did the opposite.

That was just one of the many things that Thayer loved about the warrior: he was unabashedly forthright with his appetite.

Leandra wasted no time in learning more about Thayer and where he came from. He shared things about his life in the Circle, but predominantly stuck to his life once he'd been conscripted out by Duncan. He explained his relationship with Alistair, then with Bodahn and Sandal, before going on about his fellow companions through the Blight. Hawke would occasionally interject with comments and questions, which made Thayer feel good—at least he was showing interest. Perhaps his distant façade was just a front.

He went on about his adventures across Ferelden and how he eventually came to defeat the archdemon and consequently end the fifth Blight. Neither Leandra nor Hawke questioned how Thayer was still alive, which allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief. And to his pleasant surprise, Bodahn chimed in several times to express his admiration for Thayer's abilities and leadership skills across their time together.

One of Thayer's favorite things he heard was: "For someone so young, he certainly did a great job!"

As Thayer's tale of his life through the Blight came to an end, Leandra and Hawke shared their own, and how they had fled Lothering with Bethany and Carver, Hawke's younger twin siblings and the apples of Leandra's eyes, when the Blight had gone into full swing. Hawke mentioned how Bethany used to love listening to Leliana's tales at the Chantry. Thayer couldn't help but wonder if Leliana would remember her, or the other Hawkes. That would certainly be interesting.

Soon Garrett switched the subject back to Thayer. He wanted to know how Thayer had become Warden-Commander of the Grey, and how he maintained such a prestigious title. Thayer shared how it had fallen into his lap after he defeated the archdemon. He also went on to tell the tale of the battle against the Architect. By this time most had finished their entrees and were leisurely enjoying their dessert: a thick, rich tiramisu with rum-soaked lady fingers.

"You mean to say there was a sentient darkspawn who could _talk_?" Garrett asked curiously.

"Oh, yes, and he was quite the talker. Some of the things he said were unbelievable. He was freeing darkspawn from the Calling, which is basically what draws them to the Old Gods and makes them corrupt them," Thayer explained.

A good portion of this was new to Alistair, who had left shortly after they'd discovered Velanna on the Wending Wood. He was listening, enraptured, as Thayer continued his story, talking about how he'd gone and defeated the Broodmothers, a powerful blood mage, and eventually the Architect himself.

"We lost a lot of people in the battles," Thayer said grimly. "But one loss apparently was another's gain: Anders is still alive and well."

"You know, it's funny," Hawke began. "You mentioned that spirit of Justice you came across. Anders…"

He trailed off, which caught Thayer's attention. He eyed the other man curiously. "Anders what?"

"Anders mentioned to me how he'd merged with a spirit of Justice. Knowing what I know now, I can't help but think it's the same one he knew from before."

Thayer couldn't believe what he was hearing. Anders had always seemed somewhat scared of Justice when they traveled through Amaranthine together. Why in the world would he have merged with him? The mage had always assumed that Justice had been laid to rest when Kristoff's body had been found on the grounds of Vigil's Keep. It would seem that something otherwise had occurred—something quite intense.

Alistair frowned. "That might explain why you never found a body for Anders, like you said."

He needed to talk to the other mage. There were a lot of missing pieces to this puzzle. Yet another task to lay ahead of him, he thought with concern.

"Enough about me," he said suddenly. He needed to take a moment to recuperate. He'd just relived several intense moments of his life in recalling them, and now he felt tired. "Tell me about yourselves. Leandra, you've no magic skills of which to speak, right? Nor does Carver?"

"Oh, no, it would seem magic skipped me and your mother's generation and went right into you children. Carver…well, we were surprised he didn't have any magical abilities. Malcolm I daresay seemed a little disappointed at first, but he loved his son no less because of it."

"Carver certainly acted like it," Garrett offered, his tone flat.

"Now, hush, Garrett, that's no way to speak about your brother. Especially now that he isn't here."

The air grew tense between Leandra and Hawke. Thayer could feel its palpable presence, but chose not to comment on it. Instead he waited for one of them to speak again.

"So, do either of you know the Grey Warden who took my brother under his wing?" Hawke asked.

Alistair nodded. He explained, "He's an Orlesian Warden. We heard about him when we were in Orlais. He wouldn't just choose anyone. Your brother must have had something about him that made Stroud want him as a Warden recruit."

Garrett scoffed beneath his breath. "Yes, well, that doesn't make the pain go away any better. I shouldn't have taken him down there in the first place."

Silence filled the dining room. Thayer and Alistair shared a look. They knew it must have been hard to deal with, especially so close to the loss of Carver's twin sister, Bethany. It was clear that their safety had been Garrett's number one priority. There was no easy way to deal with the loss of a family member. However, there was a brighter side in knowing that Carver was still alive.

"The good news is that it isn't a death sentence. You'll see Carver again." Thayer offered Hawke a comforting smile.

"Yes, but that still doesn't bring back my sister."

"Garrett."

"Sorry, Mother."

The mood had quickly turned sour at the table. There were few ways to recover a conversation that had turned toward death, especially when it remained as prevalent in the minds of those it affected as it did here. Thayer cleared his throat and poked at his dessert a few times before changing the subject and moving on.

"The Maker works in mysterious ways. I find it interesting that I discover my family here by complete chance. I'd love to hear more about my parents…whatever you know."

Leandra gave a melancholy smile. "Oh, child. The things I know about your mother! She and I grew up together. There's so much to say. Let's enjoy our conversation in the parlor; it's far more fitting than the dinner table."

Leandra led the way for Hawke, Thayer and Alistair into the parlor. Night had fallen and the moon's pale light shone through the long, slender windows. Hawke lit several lamps around the room and also started up a fire in the handsome fireplace around which were centered several chairs. Alistair and Thayer shared a loveseat while Leandra and Hawke chose what seemed to be their own personal chairs in the room.

"Would I be farfetched in assuming story time will continue now?" Garrett asked with a sidelong smirk.

"It wouldn't hurt you to learn more about your family, Garrett," his mother said, tone chastising. "There's a lot I never shared with you or your siblings about our family. Mostly about our lives here in Kirkwall…"

Leandra proceeded to tell the three men about the Amell family and its exploits. She told them the tales of growing up in Hightown, spending the majority of her days with her cousin, Revka. The two were closer than Leandra ever was with her own brother, Gamlen, who Leandra explained had always been envious of her and her successes in life. She described Revka in great detail—her love for the arts and music; her interest in cooking; her laughter that lit up a room. Thayer tried relating all of this information to what he could remember about his mother from all those years ago, but it was harder than he thought it would be.

"You look just like her," Leandra went on to say. "Everything about you just…_is_ your mother. I wonder what she'd say if she saw your hair?"

Thayer laughed. "I've been meaning to visit a barber recently. It's slipped my mind."

"We'll get it taken care of, don't worry," she said with a smile. "And we'll do one for your partner, here, too."

Alistair made a face, but then snorted. "Oy, I don't look that bad, do I?"

The conversation continued with stories about Thayer's father, Marcus. He was a lesser noble and only two years older than Revka. His family had known the Amells for years, and it had been set in stone just a few years after Marcus and Revka met that the two would wed. The idea of an arranged marriage between his parents seemed difficult to believe, but Thayer supposed true love could blossom at any time, and with any pair. Marcus enjoyed the more physical pleasures of life, being an avid swordsman. On a seemingly softer side, he also liked spending time outdoors, tending to plants and flowers.

"It was one of the reasons why Revka loved him so," Leandra said with a smile.

Thayer also learned that his father and mother's wedding had been an important day among the Kirkwall nobles. This, as with anything that really painted his parents as nobles, was strange to him. What memories Thayer had of his parents remained humble. His mother had never given off an air of nobility, of privilege, nor had his father.

"It just seems so out of place for them to have grown up in such a way," Thayer explained, mildly perplexed. "They were so…_normal_."

"My dear child, _normal_ can mean anything, depending on what you are comparing it to. What happened with your sister humbled your parents. They no longer had their name to do their hard work for them. They started from the ground up in Ferelden. I daresay you saw the better side of your parents."

"It does one well to remember their humble roots," Garrett offered. "Or so Mother says."

"You come from a wonderful pair of people. It's a shame you didn't get to spend more time with them before their untimely death. But, know that you have family here. You are welcome any time."

Leandra's kind words spread warmth throughout Thayer's body. It was indescribable, this feeling—this sense of wholeness that came from learning more about where he'd come from. This was truly just the tip of the iceberg but it was more than satisfying enough for the night. Thayer had a lot to digest.

"Where are you two staying?" Leandra asked. "Don't tell me at that Hanged Man tavern, that place is an absolute _hovel_."

Hawke rolled his eyes. "It's not that bad, Mother. You just hate it because I go there with Isabela and Varric and drink."

"It's _foul_, Garrett, and it always has been. You're not staying there, right?"

Thayer nodded. "There really was nowhere else to go."

"Nonsense! You're staying here. No Amell will stay in that…that _shack. _Your room probably has rats. Filthy." Leandra made a face.

"As you can see, she's quickly reacclimated to the noble life," Hawke joked.

"You two go get your things from that fleapit and come back here right afterward. I'll have a room upstairs made for you upon your return."


	7. Solona

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone! Here is the beautiful chapter 7 of our wondrous tale :) If you have me on author alerts, you might notice that I've been posting a new story pretty frequently (will be posting chapter 3 here of it right after this one). I got sucked back in to my childhood love of Power Rangers thanks to Netflix and a lack of anything better to do, so of course my muse was intrigued and wanted to dabble in that. If Power Rangers slash is your thing, I'd head on over there and check it out! **

**In the meantime, what the future has in store for Thayer is a little more than he bargained for. I can't say much more than that, but I've read this chapter a few times, and I always feel melancholy afterward. You'll see why. Hope you enjoy! :)**

**Gatorsnacks: OMG. I have to commission someone to draw that, because the idea of it in my head is hilarious. Especially because you know Alistair the little piggy would have all his food...haha!**

**Lihael: I'm glad to see you followed Thayer on his journey! Yeah, the family relationship between him, Hawke and Leandra plays a bit part of this, as well in other ways. You shall see :)**

**Thanatos Orpheus Messiah: you know, I didn't mean for the message to correlate back to chapter 3, or at least, I don't think I intended to. I wrote chapter 3 ages ago (I think close to 2-3 months) so who knows, my brain was all over the place back then. At any rate, I agree-my Hawke tended to be much more sarcastic/witty because you just...NEED someone like that in the party, especially if you don't use Varric consistently. **

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><p>Thayer had quickly come to realize that the Maker had an odd sense of humor. Had he any knowledge several years ago of what his life would eventually be like, he'd have thought it crazy. Becoming a Grey Warden, defeating an archdemon, becoming the Ferelden Commander of the Grey, finding family…it all seemed so absolutely outlandish, especially for someone who had only just passed their Harrowing. He knew things happened for a reason. What he didn't know was <em>why<em> these things were happening.

Not that he should complain, he thought. He'd spent many years in the Circle secretly pining away for a family. Now that he had one, he wasn't sure what to do with it—or himself.

He stared at himself in the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the armoire in the bedroom Leandra had set up for them. He buttoned up the front of his pajama shirt, trying to wrap his mind around where he currently found himself. This would take some getting used to, just like it had in Vigil's Keep.

Oh, Vigil's Keep. Thayer knew there was so much work to be done back there. He didn't even want to think about it right now.

"Maker's breath, we could live like kings here," Alistair said excitedly as he plopped atop the plush goose-down comforter that lay over an even softer mattress. His face could barely contain his grin.

"Live here, in Kirkwall? Hmph." Thayer glanced over his shoulder at the warrior. "I wish we could shirk our responsibilities back in Ferelden so easily, but…"

"Oh, yes, no need to remind me." Alistair lay back upon the bed with a satisfied groan. "You're the one who said we should enjoy ourselves while we're here. I'm holding you to that."

Thayer remained silent. He _did_ say that. And damn it, he wanted to enjoy himself. But enjoyment was difficult, knowing that tomorrow, the two of them would go to the Gallows in an attempt to find his sister. He hoped beyond hope that she would be alive. He didn't know what he was going to talk to her about, but that was yet another worry for a different day.

"Come to bed, love, you've been staring at yourself for the past ten minutes. I know you're handsome, but you can't be that self-absorbed."

Alistair's comment brought a small smile to Thayer's lips. He turned around, headed over to the bed and crawled onto it. There, he stared at the blond for a few seconds, just taking in the sight, smell and feel of his lover. It had only been several days since they'd been reunited, but Thayer couldn't have been happier. Even with everything going on around him, it was nice to have a constant in Alistair.

"What?" the warrior asked. He touched his cheek, perplexed. "Do I have something on my face?"

"No. Just…glad that you're here, is all."

"Where else would I be? Well, aside from the Hanged Man. But you fixed that, didn't you?" Alistair smirked. He reached over and pulled Thayer closer to him. "Come on, then. You need to get some sleep."

"Actually…" Thayer brought a hand in between them and palmed Alistair's chest, pushing him onto his back. "I had something different in mind."

A mischievous glint appeared in Alistair's eyes. "Why, Ser Amell, whatever are you doing? I'm just an…innocent cook's assistant…"

It was Thayer's turn to smirk.

"Yes, well, tonight, I want meat."

. . . . .

Breakfast at the Hawke estate was nearly as grand as dinner had been. Even though Thayer was used to this type of grandeur from back home at Vigil's Keep, having it here with family made it different. He wasn't sure how, but he could feel it.

Both Leandra and Garrett knew what Thayer intended to do that day. Although Leandra had several things to do around the city, Garrett was free, and surprisingly offered to accompany his cousin and Alistair to the Gallows.

"Best you have someone who knows where they're going, lest you get sidetracked by bandits or something of the like. Not that you can't handle it, but…" he said.

Thayer dressed in his best robes and ensured that he had his staff with him. It had been a long while since he'd seen a Circle, and he didn't want to make a bad impression.

As they embarked on their trek through Hightown and down into the Gallows, Hawke was rather talkative. He told Thayer and Alistair about the strength of the Templar's presence in Kirkwall compared to that back home in Ferelden, and how they seemed much more likely to accuse mages of wrongdoings. This, of course, didn't sit well with Thayer. Although being a mage was by no means something to be fiercely proud of back home in Ferelden, he had certainly made a name for himself, and people respected his supernatural skills. He didn't like the idea that he would be so quickly condemned elsewhere simply because of his _being._

They reached the Gallows early in the afternoon. Thayer briefly had a flashback of his arrival to Kirkwall just a few days previous, which sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine. Much had changed since then, but that didn't change the uncomfortable feeling that hung in the air. The malaise was so prevalent that even Alistair seemed to notice it. The two of them shared a look and then stared at Hawke, who led the way without hesitation.

He had apparently noticed their slowing down. Without skipping a beat, he said, "You get used to it."

They soon approached the docks. Hawke waited for both Thayer and Alistair to catch up before he turned to them and said, "We'll have to catch a boat across the way to the tower. Where's that Templar…? Wait here."

He left the two of them behind momentarily in order to find the Templar in charge of the ferry. A few moments later he came back with a blond haired woman fully clad in armor. She had a somewhat rowdy look about her that made Thayer furrow his brow.

"You three want across? What business do you have at the Circle? We don't just let anyone over there."

"I'm looking for somebody," Thayer said. He didn't realize it, but his voice deepened, his posture improved and his eyes narrowed. He'd adopted the same look he did whenever he assumed his Grey Warden persona. It was a natural response when met with someone like her.

"Oh yeah? And who would that be? Another mage?"

"Yes, in fact. My business is my own."

"You Fereldans, you all think you can just waltz in here and do as you please. Unless you tell me what you plan, I'm not letting you across."

Alistair opened his mouth to say something but Hawke cut him off. "He's got a package to deliver to the Tranquil. Some materials for enchanting."

"Where's the package?"

Both she and Garrett looked expectantly at Thayer. Despite a moment's hesitation he managed to pull out a small leather pouch. "Right here."

The Templar seemed convinced. With a sigh she said, "All right, follow me. C'mon on, then."

Their ride was short. Once the three men were on the Circle grounds and the Templar was gone, Thayer turned to Hawke and said, "Quick thinking. Very nice."

Hawke shrugged. "Eh, I've been known for it." He slowly grinned. "Now, what do you say we see if yet another cousin I didn't know about is hiding in here?"

Thayer was anxious. Or perhaps he was past that; he wasn't sure. His heart thumped so hard in his chest he could feel it in his throat. He showed little discomfort, however—if he'd learned anything over the last few years, it was how to weather the storm inside with a perfectly maintained façade.

Hawke guided them through the grand doors of the Kirkwall Circle. Much like the Circle back home, the entry was a large, hexagonally shaped room with no natural light and wall made of pure stone. Thayer immediately felt transported back to the place he'd called home for so many years of his life. He felt like an Apprentice again, nervously awaiting the day when his Harrowing would come.

Thayer's dip into his past was abruptly disturbed by a heated argument between a Templar and an elf who stood just a ways in front of them beside a large, multi-colored tapestry. Standing between the Templar and the elf was a young woman fright etched onto her face.

"If she is caught _anywhere_ outside of the Circle _again_, Orsino, she will be made tranquil. Do you understand?"

The elf spoke with restraint, but obvious anger weaved into his words. "It was an honest mistake, but _yes, _Knight-Commander, I understand _completely_. You've made your point."

"That's Knight-Commander Meredith," Garrett whispered. "She's got a vice grip on the Circle here."

Almost as if she heard her name, Meredith turned sharply to face Thayer, Alistair and Hawke. She folded her arms over her breastplate. Her blue eyes glowed with curiosity.

"Ah, if it isn't Hawke, the name on _everyone's_ mouth nowadays. And you're here with two companions." Meredith approached them quickly; she moved with purpose. She was somewhat taller than Thayer—just enough to look down her pointed nose at him. She almost seemed to ignore Alistair's presence. "Who are you?"

"My name is Thayer Amell, Knight-Commander."

Her tone changed suddenly at his announcement. Even her stance loosened slightly. "Amell? _You_? _You're_ the Warden-Commander?"

"That would be me, Commander."

"And just what, pray tell, are you doing here in Kirkwall? Last I had heard, you were up to your neck in darkspawn troubles in Amaranthine."

"You must be behind the times, Commander. I've dealt with that problem and am taking personal leave before I return to Amaranthine."

Something flared in Meredith's eyes at Thayer's comment. He was by no means threatened by her—not in the way everyone else in the room seemed to be. Hawke was of the same mind, as he stood almost boredly beside Thayer, arms crossed over his chest.

"Well," Meredith spoke briskly, "I sincerely hope you enjoy your time in Kirkwall, Warden-Commander. If there's anything I can do for you, please stop by the Templar headquarters here in the Gallows. For now, I am taking my leave." She looked at Orsino. "I trust we are done here. Control your mages, or I will."

Without another word, Meredith left the premises. Thayer's eyes followed after her briefly as she took hear leave. He eventually focused his attention on Orsino, the elf Meredith had been speaking to.

Orsino approached the three men with flushed cheeks. His hands remained firmly clasped at his front. "I apologize for that scene, Warden-Commander. Meredith was…simply returning one of my mages who got lost running an errand. Maker forbid she get lost when she's never permitted to leave the grounds, but." He cleared his throat. "Where are my manners? My name is Orsino. I am the First Enchanter of the Circle of Kirkwall. What can I help you with, Ser?"

"I'm here on a personal matter, First Enchanter," Thayer explained. "Do you have somewhere we might speak in private?"

"Oh, oh, yes, certainly, Commander. Follow me, we can speak in my quarters."

Orsino led Thayer and his companions through the main level of the Circle. Thayer couldn't believe how similar it was to the Fereldan Circle Tower—almost down to the layout of the rooms. Orsino stopped just shy of a large door, magicked a lock open and then guided the three men inside.

Unlike First Enchanter Irving's quarters, which was lined with bookshelves, Orsino's room was filled with stations of all kinds. From this alone Thayer surmised he was more of a practical mage than theoretical. Alchemical tools and apparatuses were scattered about several circular tables, working independently of Orsino's hand.

Orsino took a seat behind his large wooden desk. Atop it were several books all propped open and facing his direction. He had a roll of parchment paper with a quill and inkwell stationed beside it.

"Please, sit."

Thayer, Alistair and Garrett each took a seat in the chairs before Orsino's desk. The First Enchanter leaned forward and looked at each of them.

"What brings you here today, Warden-Commander?"

"As I said, I'm here on a personal matter." Thayer took a moment to gather his thoughts. How did he want to put this? "I've recently become aware of some…familial connections, I suppose you could say, that I am curious about."

"Reasonably so," Orsino said. "We are all curious about where we come from. Mages especially."

"You see, I've discovered that my mother lived here in Kirkwall, and that before gave birth to me, she had a daughter. Her name is Solona Amell. I came to the Circle here because I was hoping she might still be here."

"Solona…" The First Enchanter stroked his chin. He suddenly exclaimed, "Oh! Ah, yes, Solona. She _is _here. She's just recently taken charge of the library. She's a quiet one, very introspective. She's been in the Circle since a very young age, if I remember correctly."

"Yes," Thayer agreed. He refrained from explaining that she was the reason why his mother and father had fled Kirkwall.

"You wish to meet her, then?"

Thayer's heart skipped a beat. "If it's not any trouble."

"Certainly not. I daresay it would do her some good to know that she has someone in the outside world looking for her. Solona doesn't speak with many of the other mages around here. She much prefers keeping to herself and the books. If you'll excuse me, I'll go find her. I'll return shortly."

Orsino lifted himself from his seat, disappearing into the hall.

"You all right?" Alistair asked.

"Yes, fine. Just…curious."

Thayer was more restless than anything, though he was having difficulty expressing it. What would she be like? What would she _look _like? Would they have anything in common? Would she excel at the same types of magic Thayer did?

So many questions.

"Solona, if you'll just join us in here…"

Orsino's voice carried down the hall and into his quarters. Thayer couldn't help but turn around, wanting to catch the first sight of his sister. He subconsciously held his breath in anticipation.

Solona appeared in the doorway with hands linked behind her back. The first thing Thayer noticed about her was her skin—it was almost unnaturally pale, an obvious indication that she'd never left the Tower. Of most interest was her bright blonde hair, tied tightly back in a bun. Considering Thayer had a full head of dark hair, it seemed somewhat unfitting.

"Please, take a seat, Solona."

"No, if you don't mind, I'll stand. I've been sitting for some time, now."

Solona was soft spoken, but her voice rang with clarity and certainty. She moved close to the chair in which Thayer sat. Feeling fidgety, he moved to stand. She eyed him with a calculating stare.

"You've come to visit me?" she asked.

Orsino laughed. "Solona, at least let him introduce himself first."

She nodded curtly. "Very well, then. Who are you?"

"My name is Thayer," he said, clearing his throat of a large lump that had begun to form. "Thayer Amell. I have reason to believe we're related."

"Amell…" Solona furrowed her brow only slightly. Her eyes seemed to disengage from the conversation for a few moments. She suddenly blinked and brought herself back with a shake of her head. "It's possible we're related, but I know nothing of my blood family. I grew up here in the Circle."

"Yes, I thought the same thing. You see, I grew up in the Circle in Ferelden. But I've recently come to learn that I have siblings—that _you _are one of them. Our mother, Revka, had you here in Kirkwall, but you were magical from birth and the Templars took you to the Tower."

Thayer hoped to find some sort of confusion or surprise in Solona's face, but she registered little emotion. It was almost as if his story had done nothing to affect her.

Solona cocked her head to the side. "I don't understand the purpose of your visit. What is it that you want?"

He wasn't expecting that question. Thayer tried to not appear thrown off guard by it. "I wanted to investigate the claims further and see if they were true. It would appear they are."

What else could he say to her? Solona seemed nonplussed to discover that she not only had family, but _living_ family that was actively seeking her out. While there was little that could be done about them interacting over long periods of time, just the _knowledge_ of her existence had been enough to rile Thayer up. He thought it was an exciting discovery. Her disinterest was almost like a slap across his face.

Alistair, who had been silently watching, spoke up with a curious tone. "Shouldn't you, you know, be a little bit more excited about the news?"

"What purpose does this serve me?" Solona replied frankly. "I grew up here in the Circle. What I know of family is in the enchanters and my fellow mages. While it's an intriguing concept, having a mage for a brother, unless he plans to induct himself into the Kirkwall Circle, there is little we can do in terms of interaction. I lead a busy life and don't have time for frivolities."

As upset as Thayer felt inside, he did everything he could to ensure it didn't show. His sister had essentially said she didn't care about his presence and wasn't looking to get anything out of it. This made him wonder why he'd even come in the first place. She was right: unless he planned on joining the Kirkwall Circle, there was little they could do. He lived a far more independent life that required a lot from him.

"But you're family," Alistair said incredulously. "Brother and sister."

"By blood, perhaps," Solona said. "But he was never a part of my life, nor was I a part of his. We're essentially strangers driven together by unusual circumstances. I'm sure Thayer agrees. Don't you?"

_Strangers driven together by unusual circumtances._

"Story of my life," Thayer muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "True. I've accomplished what I've come to do, so it would be best if we were on our way now."

"If there's anything you need from me in the future, don't hesitate to contact me here at the Circle." It was the first bit of sincerity and warmth Thayer had seen come from Solona. Though he didn't blame her for her curt attitude, he couldn't help but wish she'd been more welcoming. "If you'll excuse me, I must return to the library. There is a large amount of cataloguing to complete today."

Solona gave a bow of her head before turning and heading for the door. Before exiting, she said, "It was nice to meet you."


	8. Cousins

**Author's Notes: I return! Within a week, yay, and with chapter eight. I knew the last chapter was going to be an interesting read for you all, simply because I wanted to throw in a little family drama for Thayer. He hasn't had a chance to experience it before, so why not? **

**Orpheus: Alistair will be getting back to shape here very shortly. I haven't really been putting it directly in the story, aside from something you will be seeing here in the chapter very shortly. :) And yeah, it reminds me of Goldanna-although I feel as though Solona definitely wishes to know Thayer, however unless he makes an effort in HER way, she won't budge. It's hard to explain. **

**Gatorsnacks: I can't say anything on his other sibling. At least not right now. But that was the idea with Solona's appearance. So keep that thought tucked into the back of your head. And the meat comment came from me basically being hungry, which...turned into something sexual. I don't even know how it happened. XD**

**Zeeji: Thank you! I wanted to keep it realistic...I had a feeling that Solona would react in such a way from the very beginning, given her upbringing. That isn't to say that she wouldn't be curious, but given her lifestyle, I imagine it's hard for her to deal with someone just popping in and being like "I'm your brother, hey!" It comes up again later-can't tell you how, but you'll see.**

**This chapter will be a lot of fun, I think you'll all love it. Lemme know what you think :D**

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><p>"All right, spill. You've got more going on inside that head than the worst storm I've ever seen you conjure up."<p>

Thayer had remained more or less silent upon their return to the estate that afternoon. Upon their arrival, Alistair had immediately taken him to their room. The mage should have expected the question.

"I don't really know what to say. I don't know what I was expecting."

"Obviously you were expecting some kind of positive response, right? I could see it in the way you looked at her. I'm not blaming you, I'm just saying."

"Yes, well, it didn't work out that way. So now I can go on my merry way."

Alistair made a face. He leaned against one of the posters of the bed, staring across the room at Thayer. "You know, this is like what happened with Goldanna."

Goldanna. Thayer hadn't thought about her for ages. He remembered how poorly that encounter had gone, and how upset Alistair had been afterward. The mage wasn't _upset_ so to speak; he just felt somewhat defeated. Maybe he _had_ been anticipating a warm welcome from his older sister. But who could blame him?

"You remember what my lovely sister was like," Alistair continued. "And do you remember what you told me?"

"Everyone is out for themselves," Thayer said.

"Exactly. Solona seemed to fit that bill quite nicely."

"In her defense, she never even knew she had family. Maybe it was selfish of me to barge into her life and make such an outlandish claim."

A new voice said, "It would seem to me you're better off without her."

Thayer and Alistair both looked to the doorway. Standing there with his arms folded over his chest was Garrett.

"Look at it this way," he continued. "No harm, no foul, right? Your sister was never originally part of your life, and now it would appear things will stay that way. Unless you plan to visit the Kirkwall Circle Tower often. It's disappointing, yes, but you can't force what won't happen naturally. It will only lead to trouble."

Hawke made a good point, and yet part of Thayer instinctively wanted to disagree with it. He knew that part was his stubbornness butting its ugly head in. He wanted to say, _No, she and I will become close and I'll prove it was a smart decision! _But he knew it wasn't. He had wanted to get to know her, learn about her. However, Solona had never even been aware of his existence—all she'd ever known was what she'd seen in the Circle. He really had no right to feel affronted by her disinterest in his presence. What benefit would it serve her to know her family? She'd done just fine in her life without that knowledge.

He hoped he would get over it soon. This was far too much to deal with in one sitting.

This led to several questions about his brother. What was _that_ situation going to be like? What kind of emotional havoc would that wreak upon him? He hoped he wasn't still licking his wounds from this when he went back to Ferelden to try and find him.

He sighed.

Garrett scratched behind his ear, giving Thayer a small smile. "You need to get your mind off of this whole situation. Listen. I was going to go see my friends at the Hanged Man later tonight. You're welcome to join me if you want, the both of you."

"Thank you," Thayer said.

"I think I might pass on this one," Alistair murmured. He was lying back on the bed with his hand over his face. "I'm pooped from walking all over the place. I don't think I can take another trip down to Lowtown. Those steps are killer."

Both Thayer and Garret laughed. Thayer reached over and rubbed Alistair's stomach. "You _are_ out of shape. Suppose it's time for you to get up with me in the morning and get training again."

Alistair groaned.

Hawke said, "Meet me in the foyer after dinner and we'll head down. See you soon."

. . . . .

"So is this really the only tavern that exists in Kirkwall?"

"No, but it's the only one that matters. Or so I've been told, anyway."

Thayer took a sip of his drink as Hawke gave him a sideways smile. Although their relation by blood was minimal, in the short time they'd spent together, Thayer was beginning to see all they had in common. He supposed that the first time they'd met had been a front—it seemed like Hawke preferred a naturally sardonic approach to things as opposed to being blunt and confrontational. In a way, it reminded him of Alistair. It clicked well with Thayer's pragmatic approach.

"What do you think of Kirkwall so far?" his cousin asked him.

"It's a far cry from Ferelden," Thayer admitted. "Hard to believe that just across a small sea, things could be so different. You know what I mean?"

Garrett nodded. "When we first arrived here a few years ago, we weren't even allowed in the city. That was when the Blight had just gone full throttle." He looked down and sighed. "Carver was at the battle of Ostagar. I wonder sometimes how he managed to get out of there alive. He would never tell me. All I ever heard was how horrible it was."

"You were very close to your brother and sister, weren't you?"

After several moments of silence, Garrett looked up at Thayer. "After my father died, my mother was an absolute mess. Without her guidance, it fell more or less square on my shoulders to take care of Carver and Bethany. I had to be their parent while my mom recovered from her loss." He drank what remained of his mead, then continued, "It was rough."

"I can imagine."

"Carver changed when our father died," Hawke said. "He was always a scrappy little bugger, but he became a lot more hostile over the years. We argued more and more. I think he resented that I was the voice of reason in our family."

"He probably felt envious that you, Bethany and your father had a common thread that he didn't share," Thayer mused.

Garrett snorted. "Oh, yes, you're right about that. That was an argument we had many times over. Not that it matters now. He's a Warden." He frowned and shook his head. "Listen. I'm sorry I snapped at you about this the other day. It's still smarting a bit. Mother…blamed me, you see, for taking him down to the Deep Roads. It's _my_ fault he contracted the Blight. It's _my _fault he became a Warden. So, in essence, she's lost her babies, all thanks to me. And she may not always say it, but I can see it in the way she looks at me sometimes."

Thayer could understand. There were plenty of decisions that he had made over the last few years that had left him with a heavy heart. Learning to deal with the aftermath had taken him quite some time.

"You did what you could," Thayer said. "And to be honest, I would have likely snapped, too. You're handling this whole situation far better than I think most people would." He gestured between the two of them.

"What, you mean finding out about you?"

"Exactly."

Hawke laughed. "How many people can say they're related to a living Warden who's slain an archdemon?"

Thayer smiled. "You make a good point. Still, finding out about unknown family is always dicey. I wouldn't have known if it weren't for Anders."

"Oh, Anders…"

Hawke gave a coy smile. It seemed wholly unlike him, and it made Thayer remember what Leandra had said earlier about Anders being at the house often. Perhaps the two of them had more in common than he'd originally thought.

"Am I interpreting that look correctly?"

"What look?"

"That demure little smile. I know that look very well."

"Oh? What do you know about it?"

Hawke was giving off all of the signs that Thayer had originally given when his interest in Alistair had peaked. It was amusing to him.

"Suppose I'll just have to find Anders for an answer, then?"

"Oy, that's not funny."

"Then I'm right."

Hawke replied in a playfully mocking way, "Yes, well, then you're right."

"Anders never gave me the inkling that he fancied men, but then again, apparently there's a lot about Anders I don't quite understand." Thayer made a face, but quickly changed his expression when he realized that his drink had begun to loosen his tongue and his emotions. He closed his eyes for a moment—the anger he'd felt was bubbling up again.

Hawke took it one step further. "If that isn't ire, I don't know what is. I know you're upset that Anders apparently faked his own death, but if he's alive and well, what's it matter?"

"You tell me," Thayer retorted. "Say that one of your own went missing after a battle. How would it make you feel to know they'd faked their own death and were alive and well elsewhere?"

"Ah, touché."

"You see my point."

"Yes and no. After I got past the anger and betrayal I'd feel immensely relieved. So, do _you_?"

Thayer hesitated, pondering. "Well, yes. And I did tell Anders that at this point, it no longer matters. I suppose I should follow what I say. It won't do to be a hypocrite."

Garrett smirked. "For what it's worth, Anders has been an excellent partner."

"And in which way am I supposed to interpret that?"

"Do with it as you will."

Thayer laughed.

Hawke gave a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose we should call it a night. I've actually got a job I should be doing."

"What's that, then?"

"Some crockpot of a guardsman thinks that some disappearances that have happened the last few years are all connected. He gave me the name of some noble whose house he wants me to investigate."

Thayer raised an eyebrow. "Sounds intriguing."

"Oh, you think so? By all means, join me. I could use another mage in my group. I never did get to ask you…what's your specialty?"

"Primal magic," Thayer said with a small grin. "Nothing more fun than a bolt of lightning or a pillar of fire, yeah?"

"Apparently we've got more in common than we thought. I daresay we could take over the world if we wanted to."

"Too much work. Believe me, running an arling is hard enough. An entire world? No, thank you."

Hawke laughed. "Got to shatter all my dreams, don't you? Come on, let's polish these off and head back."

. . . . .

Upon their return to the estate that night, Thayer and Hawke were met with an unexpected guest.

"Anders!"

The blond mage was just about to knock on the door. He turned around at the sound of his voice, smiling with surprise.

"Ah, Garrett, Thayer…evening."

"What are you doing here?" Thayer asked. He realized the exact reason when Garrett and Anders shared a look. "_Oh_."

"Yes, just…visiting, is all," Anders replied. "What are you two up to?"

"Just got back from the Hanged Man," Hawke said. "Had a few drinks. I caught him up on where we're at. Let's go inside, we can talk more in there."

Hawke led Thayer and Anders inside the estate and to the sitting room. While the mages took a seat in the lush armchairs near the fireplace, Garrett remained standing, arms comfortably folded over his chest.

"So you told Thayer about our plan tonight?" Anders asked.

"Yes, he's in the loop. I asked him to join us. We could use another mage."

Anders relaxed in his seat. "I didn't want to give anything away. You know, in case he didn't know."

Thayer looked at the blond mage and snorted. He should have guessed that's why Anders was here—it didn't seem his style to be a midnight caller.

"Did you find the DuPuis estate?" Garrett inquired.

"Yes. It's not too far from where we are. We could get there easily."

"So, this is just an investigative mission?" Thayer sat forward in the armchair, scratching at his neck. "What do you expect to find?"

"We're not entirely sure," Anders said. "The guard we spoke to, Emeric, says that Gascard DuPuis, a noble, is involved in this string of disappearances. I'm sure Garrett told you. But the truth is, even he didn't give us much to go off of. We don't even know what we'll find."

"We just have to find implicative evidence."

"Right."

Hawke chuckled. "Should be a cakewalk. We'll get in, we'll get out, and everything will be fine." He turned and glanced toward the entrance to the sitting room. "Varric and Fenris should be here soon."

Thayer raised an eyebrow. "Have I met them?"

"No, not yet." Garrett paused, then started for the exit. "I hear Bodahn speaking to someone at the door. I'll be back."

Thayer and Anders shared a look. Despite himself, the Grey Warden couldn't help but blurt out:

"We need to talk."

Anders chuckled quietly. "How did I know this was coming?"

"I apologize. I just…well."

"You're impulsive, Thayer, it's understandable. And I do owe you an explanation. But not here. Not now." Anders rubbed his neck. "Can we speak about it tomorrow?"

Thayer nodded.

Garrett rejoined them a few moments after, followed by a blond dwarf and a thin elf with white-blond hair and strange markings all over his body. Upon closer investigation, Thayer realized they teemed with magical energy. The elf stared at him with narrowed eyes. It would have been unnerving, had Hawke not spoken.

"Fenris, Varric, this is the Warden-Commander of Ferelden, Thayer Amell."

"Amell?" the dwarf asked. "You mean—"

"Yes, he's related. He's my cousin."

"Let me guess: another _mage_," the elf grumbled.

"Just another happy addition to the party," Hawke said with a sardonic smirk. "I love how that's the one thing you focus on, Fenris. Never mind that he defeated the archdemon and all that."

"Yes, well, congratulations to him," Fenris said dryly. "Let us go so we can take care of this meaningless mission."

Anders stood up, ran his hands down the front of his robes and nodded. "We've got just a ways to walk."

Hawke gestured out the door. "Lead the way."


	9. Anders' Clinic

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone! Sorry this took me so long to post. I've finally gotten all of my boxes from my move in my apartment and have been putting things away more so than hanging around the computer. At any rate, here is chapter nine! Yay! Lots of fun to be had here, so I hope you all like it ;D**

**Gatorsnacks: Fenris is really growing on me, I can't explain it. I might have to write something with him later on. :3**

**Lihael: Me too! I was playing Legacy not too long ago and it made me long to play DA from the beginning, but I just don't have the time!**

**Kinay: Thayer was working with Blood Magic in the first story, however here he has backed off for Alistair's sake. :) I'm glad my story was able to suck you in so quickly! Hee.**

**Zeeji: Ask and ye shall receive! In this chapter comes the infamous Anders and Thayer talk! Yay!**

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><p>"Behind you!"<p>

A sudden jet of fire shot past Thayer, erupting a Shade from the inside out. The beast fell to the ground with an ear-piercing shriek that sent the Grey Warden reeling back. He looked at the body, making sure it was completely dead before stepping over it.

"Thanks," he said to Hawke, noticing that his cousin was rubbing a wound on his arm. Garrett seemed to catch on quick; he dropped the sleeve of his robe and cleared his throat.

"No problem. That looked to be the last of them…"

That couldn't have been…

No, Thayer was seeing things.

The DuPuis estate had proven to be a complete mess from the very beginning. Immediately after stepping inside, Thayer, along with Garrett and Anders, had felt an ominous presence that soon manifested itself into several demons. They realized they were in far deeper than originally planned, which led them to scouring the home for any and all evidence of foul play. Demons and Shades didn't just pop up like that—a connection was to be found somewhere in the house.

When things seemed to hit a dead end, a muffled scream came from further down the corridor in which they stood.

"That sounds like a woman's cry," Anders said. He readied his staff.

Hawke guided them down the dimly lit hallway, stopping just before a set of double doors. From the other side came another scream, louder this time. The cry was terse and shrill—she was scared and likely in danger.

"Why aren't we going in there?" Varric asked breathlessly. "She sounds like she's scared shitless. What if she's getting attacked?"

"Shh!" Garrett whispered, holding up a hand. "She's not _alone_."

When all five men fell silent, another voice—a man's voice—became apparent.

"Be quiet! Do not make me hit you again!"

"That's DuPuis," Varric said. His eyes were wide in surprise. "Maybe he _does_ have something to do with these disappearances…"

"All right. I'm going to open the door and we'll prepare to launch an attack." Garrett eyed his companions. "Fenris, if he looks like he might run, you stop him. Thayer and Anders, I want you both prepared to lay down some glyphs to protect the innocent woman."

Thayer's gut reaction to Garrett's command was to question it. When he took a moment to think about it, he realized it was because he had been so used to issuing orders for so long that taking them from someone else seemed almost laughable. On some level he felt relief knowing that it wasn't him this time throwing them into danger.

"Everyone ready?" Hawke asked.

He turned toward the doors, gripping the handles and pushing through them quickly. They stumbled upon a man—Gascard—and a woman cowering at his feet.

"Stop right there!" Hawke called out. "DuPuis, don't move!"

"Stop him, please! He's gone mad!" the woman cried.

Gascard held up his hands and gave a shriek. "I—I did not hurt her, I promise! I was keeping her here for safety purposes…someone is after her."

Varric rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, of _course_ someone's after her. Why are crazy killers always blaming someone else?"

"He looks far too puny to be a murderer," Fenris said. He scoffed. "I doubt he even has a weapon on him."

"You said someone's after her," Thayer said. "Why should we believe you?"

"I believe someone is playing us the fool," Gascard said quickly. "Please, allow me to explain."

"Continue," Hawke said, tone flat.

"I got twenty silver on him blaming a ghost." Varric smirked.

"Several years ago," Gascard began, "My sister was murdered. I was never able to find the killer—I believe he fled Kirkwall to save himself. But now, I think he's back. He's killing women the same way he killed my sister. His signature method." Gascard appeared visibly upset. He rubbed his hand down his face and sighed.

"So what's this 'signature method'?" Anders asked.

"It starts with white lilies." Gascard faced the group. "He sends his victims flowers. That was what happened to Alessa." He pointed to the woman who had now moved to stand. "I brought her here so he would have to come to me. I was going to face him, but then _you _all showed up."

"He's lying!" Alessa cried. "He hurt me!"

"I did it for your own _protection_," Gascard said. "I told you that I needed your blood to track you in case he managed to take you from here."

"I don't care, get away from me!"

Alessa bolted through an open channel between Gascard, Thayer and the others, and the door. She was gone before anyone was able to stop her.

"She'll go straight to the city guard!" Gascard exclaimed.

Thayer raised an eyebrow. "Why can't you just tell them what you told us?"

"The guard is corrupt," Gascard said. "And I do not want him _arrested_. I want to bleed him dry for what he did to my sister."

"Creepy," Anders murmured beneath his breath.

"You realize the guard is well aware of what you're doing," Garrett said, letting out a snort. "Emeric was the one who told us about you. He thought you were the killer."

"Yes, well, of course he would. He doesn't have all of the information."

All the men in the room fell silent as the situation came to a head. Thayer looked to his cousin, wondering what decision he might make. After all, he was the one running this mission.

Hawke folded his arms over his chest. "So. Who killed your sister?"

Gascard looked away momentarily. "He's an extremely powerful blood mage. I believe he's using women in some ritual—no bodies have ever been found. He always chooses attractive women, healthy women, who are relatively low on the social scale."

Thayer and Hawke shared a look.

"What kind of ritual?" Thayer asked.

"I don't know. I was hoping to find out when I caught him."

Garrett sighed. Thayer could tell he felt the weight of the situation on his shoulders, and that he was hesitant to make a decision. He hoped that they were on the same page—Thayer would have let Gascard go and then sent someone to follow him. If it were true, and there were really another killer, removing Gascard from the equation could mess things up for them.

"Run away," Garrett finally said.

Thayer looked at Anders, Fenris and Varric to see their responses. Surprisingly, the only one who seemed frazzled by the decision was Fenris—he wore a disconcerted frown.

"Thank you," Gascard said, appearing relieved. "I'll be in Darktown. If you find anything new about the killer, you will find me there."

He was gone in seconds. Thayer and the others turned in toward Hawke.

"Do you want me to follow him?" Anders asked.

Garrett simply nodded.

"Find me in my clinic tonight. I'll let you know what I find out."

Anders followed suit, disappearing just after Gascard.

"Let's call it a night," Garrett said. "We'll regroup at the estate in the morning and then go talk to Emeric, let him know what happened."

"You let him go," Fenris said, his voice a low growl. "What if he's the killer? You could have sent that girl to her death."

"It's a risk I had to take. Let's hope it was the right one."

Thayer and Garrett split from Varric and Fenris at the entrance to the DuPuis estate, heading back to the Hawke estate. Though there were a few questions swirling around in the Grey Warden's head, he chose to keep them to himself for now. He wasn't really sure what it was he had seen earlier, and he wasn't about to make accusations that could earn him a boot out the door.

The two went their separate ways once inside. Thayer quietly slipped into his room, not wanting to wake Alistair. His snores could be heard through the door. He undressed and slipped into his pajamas, moving toward the bed and crawling atop it. Despite the vast amount of information rolling around in his head he managed to fall asleep without incident.

. . . . .

"It isn't like Fenris to be late."

"We should just go without him. Emeric is probably going to have a coronary if you make him wait any longer."

"Varric makes a good point…"

Thayer hadn't really known the dwarf for long, but he was tired of waiting for their other companion. It had been nearly twenty minutes and they had seen neither hide nor tail of him. Chances were he just didn't want to come.

Hawke rubbed his eyebrows. "All right, let's get going, then."

Thayer, Garrett, Varric and Anders traveled to the Gallows to find Emeric. They had agreed to meet in front of the Templar's quarters, but from the looks of it, he was nowhere to be seen. Just one look at his cousin told Thayer how irritated he was with this whole situation. Garrett often wore his feelings on his sleeves, it seemed.

"We agreed to meet him right here," Anders said, confused. "So where is he?"

"We could ask her," Varric offered.

He pointed to a Templar standing not too far away from them. She looked bored, as if she had been posted here against her will. Thayer supposed it made sense. There couldn't be much excitement at the quarters, seeing how many Templars hung around here.

"Couldn't hurt," Hawke said. He walked over to the Templar, but before he was able to say anything, she spoke.

"Ah, Ser Hawke. I was wondering when I might see you. Emeric told me to tell you that he got your note and that he'll meet you tomorrow night at the location you agreed upon."

"What?" Garrett paused. "Oh, oh, yes. Right. Well, thank you…?"

"Moira," she said.

"Thank you Moira. We'll see Emeric tomorrow tonight, then."

Strange though that was, Thayer kept silent as they walked away, not wanting to give any sign of his confusion. He waited until they were safely out of the Templar quarters before saying, "Could that be any more of a trap?"

"I don't think it's Gascard," Garrett said. "Killing the women, I mean. Not now, not after that. And I doubt it's Emeric. The killer must be on our trail."

"Let him be," Anders said. "He's going to regret messing with us."

Garrett ignored the comment. "We should just split up and regroup when it comes time to meet up with Emeric again."

"Good, this will give me some time to focus on the people in Darktown." Anders slowly began pulling away from the group. "If anyone needs me, come to my clinic."

Seeing his chance, Thayer jumped on it. "Anders, I'm coming with you."

The look on the blond mage's face read clearly that he knew what was going to happen, but he allowed it anyways. "Sure. You've never been. It makes sense."

Thayer shared a knowing glance with Hawke before saying, "Tell Alistair I went to see Anders' clinic and that I'll be back in time for supper, all right?"

"All right. Be safe, you two."

Thayer followed alongside Anders silently for several moments. He knew that waiting until they were safely out of view from their companions would be the best way to approach his once trusted friend, which was precisely why he said nothing until they were heading down the large steps from Hightown to Darktown.

He spoke succinctly: "We'll talk in private when we get to your clinic."

Little did he know how difficult that would prove to be. Upon entering the clinic, Thayer's mind instantly flashed back to the barracks at Ostagar. Seeing all of these injured men and women was triggering his memories of each painful battle: Redcliffe, Denerim, Amaranthine…

"Are you all right?" Anders asked.

"Fine," he replied dismissively. "Yes, fine. Sorry."

But he wasn't. Thayer realized he could never be fully desensitized to the sight of this—it was just too hard.

As they passed through the cots and makeshift beds that lay in rows throughout the clinic, anxious and fearful family members and friends eagerly requested Anders' assistance. The hope that clung to their voices, that glimmered in their eyes—this was what he had been doing all along? Healing the injured and the sick?

Anders expertly swooped through the rows of maladies before arriving at a door against the back of the clinic. He gestured for Thayer to join him inside. Once there, he shut the door behind them and twisted the lock tightly into place.

"You must make good money running a clinic," Thayer commented, musing aloud.

"Oh, I don't charge. It's all free. These people here, they can't afford much of anything, let alone medical care. I didn't think it was right, so I've been offering it for free, so long as my power sustains it."

Suddenly Thayer felt awful. He hadn't meant to sound opportunistic. Had Anders really changed so much in that he was now doing things free of personal gain?

"I can see in the way you look at me that you're still not over what happened." Anders moved to sit at the small table set up in his office, gesturing for Thayer to do the same across from him. "And I suppose I can't really blame you. But let me at least explain."

Thayer simply nodded.

"I need you to know something very important, Thayer. I'm still me. But there's someone else inside of me, too. Someone else you know."

"Justice."

Anders appeared surprised at first, but quickly thereafter a knowing smile lit up his face. "Ah. I guess I'm not the only one who can't keep a secret."

"Was it a secret, really?"

"I suppose not, but even still. It's not widely known, and it needs to stay that way."

"My only question is: why?"

Anders must have understood he meant why to the whole situation and not just to his merging with Justice, because he went silent for a few moments and closed his eyes. When he spoke, he did so with a soft, but assured tone.

"Justice showed me how important having a purpose in life is. The things we've accomplished together have been so fulfilling, so rewarding. To be honest with you…I felt trapped back in Amaranthine. I helped you out mostly because I was indebted to you. You saved me from the Templars, so I helped you with your quest. But I didn't want to settle down and be a Grey Warden forever. It's just not me. I—"

The blond mage stopped himself. There seemed to be more to the story, but Thayer didn't push just yet.

"I don't really remember how I ended up in Kirkwall. All I remember is that I began healing people because it was just what felt right. I set up a small clinic and became known for it. My doors are always bustling and my clinic is always packed. There is so much injustice in this city, Thayer, it's disgusting." For the briefest of moments his eyes seemed to glow blue, but they were back to normal before Thayer could even blink. "Justice and I together are working on righting what we can. It's why we're helping Garrett."

"But you couldn't even tell me you were leaving?"

"You would have tried to stop me. And knowing who I was back then, I probably would have stayed. And then neither of us would have been happy—me because I'd given in when I shouldn't have, and you because I would never truly be the recruit you'd want me to be."

"That sounds like a load of nonsense, that last part. You mean to tell me you would have just let go after the whole battle?"

"Not let go, just…redirect my focus. I needed to get out of Amaranthine. Out of Ferelden. There's only so much I can do to avoid the Templars."

"Well, you find yourself in an intriguing place, don't you? Templars are everywhere in this city."

"Yes, but none of them know me for who I truly am. None of them knows Anders the Apostate, or the people he's killed, or the kittens he's swiped." That last part brought a smile to both of their faces, but it was short-lived for Anders. "They treat us like second-class citizens here. Worse than in Ferelden. It's just…" He shook his head. "We shouldn't feel guilty for being what we are. Magic is a blessing, not a curse."

Thayer nodded in agreement. The pained tone with which Anders spoke assuaged his frustration with his companion's running away. Even though he _had_ disappeared without a trace, it had seemingly turned into something for the greater good.

"I'm hoping that by running this clinic and helping to heal the sick and injured will help change the minds of the lower class but so far, nothing. While most are grateful, some have come to expect it. It's a vicious, never-ending cycle with mages at the bottom of the feeding barrel."

Anders' voice turned bitter by the end of his dialogue, after which he fell silent, looking toward his cot nestled in the corner. He folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

"I'm truly sorry," he said earnestly. "I never meant to hurt you, or offend you. I just had to do what was best for me."

_We have to do what's best for ourselves._

Zevran's words rang in Thayer's head once more thanks to Anders. After that, he felt what little frustration he was clinging to fade away.

"All's forgiven," Thayer said amicably, reaching across the space between them to pat Anders on the knee. "But I do feel the need to ask…"

Anders opened his eyes. "Hm?"

"You and Garrett?"

Anders turned pink. "W-What?"

Thayer's lips curled into a smirk. "That's all I needed to know."


	10. Midnight Rendezvous

**Author's Notes: Voici chapter ten! Yet again, some more intriguing moments brought to you by Hawke and our Warden. If you couldn't tell by now, I was incredibly intrigued by the fact that the Amell blood line ran in the Hawke line as well, and since Thayer doesn't really know his family...I had to make a connection. Haha. These two are really great together; they provide a lot of interesting insight, and they were always fun to write. :)**

**Gatorsnacks: I have a feeling Anders has a hard time hiding things from Thayer, given their relationship to one another. I always felt Anders held a lot of admiration (where possible) for him because of his decision to not kill him, and because of their similar backgrounds. It's a ship I never explored, but had Thayer not ended up with Alistair, he very well could have gone to Anders. ;)**

**Please enjoy everyone!**

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><p>Later that night at the Hawke estate, something weighed heavily on Thayer's mind.<p>

He recalled their battle at the DuPuis estate and seeing Garrett rub a wound on his arm. That might have been easily missed by anyone who didn't understand blood magic, but for someone who had actively practiced it for months? Unlikely. He'd thought about it off and on all evening, growing more and more assured in his belief that it _had_ been blood magic. He wondered, should he bring it up? Would it be too forward? He and Garrett had gotten along up until now and he didn't want to cause a rift, especially seeing as he and Alistair were guests in his home.

This presented a unique opportunity. The two shared blood through their mothers. While it may have not been as powerful of a bond as brothers and sisters shared, it was close enough. Perhaps his research didn't have to stop.

No, he told himself. Thinking about this would lead him down a dangerous path he had managed to veer himself away from.

Still, the temptation was strong. He couldn't help but wonder.

Just before retiring to his room for the night Thayer wandered past Garrett's room. The door was ajar, revealing his cousin standing within near a roaring flame burning away in the fireplace. He had his back to the entrance and his arms folded over his chest. He appeared to be deep in thought.

Against his better judgment Thayer knocked lightly on the door. He caught Hawke's attention. Surprised, the other young man turned around.

"Oh, Thayer. Heading to bed?"

"Yes. Just thought I'd say good night."

"Ah, yes. Good night. I'll see you in the morning."

Thayer hesitated. His previous wild notions about his cousin using blood magic rushed into his head again. He opened his mouth to say something, only to catch himself.

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Something on your mind?"

"Do you mind if we speak privately for a moment?"

"Sure. Come in and shut the door."

_Too late to turn back now_, Thayer thought. He wandered into the room, shutting the door behind him. He held on to the handle for a moment too long, apparently, as when he turned around, Hawke was staring at him curiously.

"I need to ask you something," Thayer stated.

"All right. I'm all ears."

"It's about the DuPuis estate."

"Mm?"

Hawke didn't seem to know what he was talking about. He still wore that curious expression. It made Thayer scratch his throat.

"I don't want you to take what I'm about to say the wrong way. I'm simply making an observation."

Hawke's expression faltered. It was minor—just his eyebrows falling—but it was enough to let Thayer know that he had caught on.

"You…know, don't you?" Garrett asked.

"Blood magic. Right?"

He hesitated. Turning around, he faced the fireplace again, sighing. "It's true."

Thayer realized that Alistair had rubbed off on him. Even despite having expected that response, he still felt surprise—and mild disapproval—at it. He quickly brushed that aside, knowing he had no right to disapprove. He'd done it himself.

"When did you start?"

"I don't really remember. I don't do it often."

"Enough to know how to do so with stealth," Thayer commented.

Hawke chuckled. "Touché."

"Listen. I realize that this is hard to admit, especially to someone you just met. But you did, so I can, too. I've done blood magic before."

Garrett turned around and waved his hand almost dismissively. "I feel like every mage has dabbled in it at one point or another. Especially apostates. But you? The Grey Warden? Why would you ever need to use it? Aren't you souped up on power from your tainted blood?"

"That was the exact reason why I started using it in the first place."

"Wait, what?"

Thayer shook his head. "It's…a long story. To keep it short, I tried to use blood magic to remove the taint from me. I went through a dark period over the last few months, though I'd done it prior to then, as well. No matter what I did, though, it never seemed to work. It was a colossal failure."

"What in the world would prompt you to do that?"

"Grey Wardens…" Thayer paused. "We live a limited lifespan. We may survive the Joining, but it comes at a grave cost. Slowly, but surely, we slide down an irreversible slope where we become ghouls. Nobody can escape it. I found this…_journal, _I guess you'd call it, that belonged to a very powerful blood mage. It taught me practically everything I know about blood magic. I used what I read."

Despite the clear shock in Garrett's expression, his eyes seemed alight with curiosity—almost like a child listening to their parent telling a story.

"Prior to coming here, I encountered a sentient darkspawn who called himself the Architect. He explained some very interesting things—namely that the blood of Grey Wardens helped interrupt the call darkspawn hear from the Old Gods. I thought maybe by transfusing out the tainted blood from my body and refreshing it with blood from another that I might survive and live the life I deserved."

Thayer never thought he would admit that aloud to anyone ever again. In a way it felt good to do so, but on the other hand, he was gushing his emotions out to someone he'd really only just met. It very well could have just been a stupid decision. For now, it was one that made his palms sweat slightly.

Garrett was quiet for a long moment. He seemed to study Thayer with his eyes, taking in what he'd just been told. He eventually said, "That's an incredibly intriguing concept. In a way, I think it's horrible that you pondered such a thing, but only in that you had to do so in the first place. Didn't you say you joined the order willingly?"

"Maker, no," Thayer said. "I didn't know what I was agreeing to. I was conscripted. After that, I really had no choice, unless I wanted to be killed. Had I known then what I would become, I would have never gone along with it."

"Never say never," Hawke said. "Look where you are today because of what you've done, cousin."

"I reckon you're right."

Thayer and Garrett both laughed. Thayer continued, "I told Alistair I wasn't practicing it anymore. He…came here, you see, after he found out what I was doing. It sparked a huge fight and he left Amaranthine."

"No need to say any more. Lover's quarrel. Been there, done that."

"I'm glad you can empathize. Does Anders know?"

"Heavens, no. And he never will. As I said, I don't do it often. And when I do, it's strictly to help myself. I never use the blood of others."

There were a lot of things Thayer wanted to say in reply to that, but he kept silent. Hawke was a grown man who could make his own decisions. Despite that, it was hard not to offer advice to someone who was going through something very similar to what you had.

"This stays between us," Garrett said firmly. "Right?"

"Swear on it."

"Good. I have to admit, at first, I thought you were going to chastise me and tell me to change my ways."

"My morality has grown awfully grey over the years," Thayer admitted. "Things that used to upset me don't anymore. Likewise, things I used to feel passionately about, I've become almost numb to. For a Warden, duty always comes first. Everything else is a far second."

"Well, in my home, you're not a Warden. You're an Amell, and Amells do what they want, when they want, however they want. So I suggest you go back to your room, get a good night's sleep and be prepared for me to tell you what to do in the morning. Although bossiness is more of a Hawke trait." Garrett smirked.

Thayer had to admit, having someone else take the reins for once was a very welcome change.

"Good night, Garrett. We'll talk in the morning."

"Good night, Thayer."

. . . . .

"You're coming with us, aren't you?"

Alistair nodded. "If I ever want to get back up and running…"

Thayer was glad Alistair had chosen to come along. They could have used one more person handy with a blade when they'd gone into the DuPuis estate. Given that they knew there was a trap awaiting them, having that extra manpower would give them the upper edge.

It seemed almost too easy, finding out that there was a trap lying ahead of them. The killer didn't even seem to be trying to protect himself…

"Got all your gear?" Thayer asked.

Alistair twirled his blade around him with little effort. He smiled. "Apparently I'm not as rusty as I thought I was."

"All the better. We'll need your help for sure."

They traveled downstairs to the main hall where they met up with Hawke, Anders, Varric and Fenris. After a few under-the-breath comments about Fenris' attitude and his tattoos from Alistair, they were off to meet up with _Emeric_.

They moved quietly under the night's cover. Dark clouds floating in the sky above shrouded the moon; the only light came from the lampposts scattered about Hightown. When they stepped into the back alley where _Emeric _had told them they would meet, unsurprisingly, no one was there.

No one, except for a Templar's corpse.

"Emeric!"

Hawke jogged over to the Templar's body which sprawled across the ground near a collection of empty barrels. His body was worse for wear—with a slit throat, stab wounds penetrating his armor and what appeared to be a broken elbow, it was obvious he had been made into an example.

"Well, this is unexpected," Fenris said, snorting.

Before anybody could add something, from behind the shadows appeared several Shades. Everyone jumped back and into position.

"Take them out!" Hawke ordered, blasting one with a burst of ice from the tip of his staff.

Thayer and Alistair paired up against another Shade. The mage released a wave of frost that froze the creature in place, giving Alistair the chance to bash it with his shield. It collapsed into a heap of bloody pieces at their feet.

Just as Thayer turned around to fight off another, he watched in amazement as Fenris suddenly began to glow an eerie shade of blue. His body almost fell out of focus, as if he weren't entirely there. He moved with superhuman speed and literally dashed through one of the Shades with his blade, cutting it clean in half.

By the time Thayer recovered from what he saw, the group of Shades fell, giving way to a set of Abominations that rose up from the ground beneath them and starting the battle anew.

"Watch out!"

Garrett's warning made Thayer look in his direction. Varric, Fenris and Anders all jumped back, but before Thayer had the chance to, Hawke sent an arc of ice shards flying across the ground. He stopped those aimed in his direction using a wall of flame, but the force of the spell caused the now wave of water to splash over him, knocking him to the ground.

Each of the remaining Abominations were quickly taken out. Thayer stood, sputtering and trying to get his hair from his eyes. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Nice to see you can find some humor in the situation," Varric said, his own lips curled into a faint smirk. "Hawke doesn't give much warning before those blasts are let out. You learn fast to position yourself appropriately."

"Or just disappear," Alistair said. He pointed at Fenris. "That was absolutely _wicked_. What in the world did you just do?"

The platinum haired elf folded his thin arms over his chest. He eyed Alistair. "You think these tattoos are just for show? I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

"I'll say. That was brilliant!"

"The novelty wears off eventually," Anders said flatly. He and Fenris shared a look, one that was none too friendly.

"Is that the last of them?" Thayer glanced around the small back alleyway.

Their battle had done plenty of damage to the surrounding environment, including the destruction of three or four barrels, half the ground beneath them and also one large chunk of a building's wall.

"So it would seem."

Garrett sheathed his staff and went back over to Emeric's body. He knelt down to tilt his head to the side but his focus suddenly shot over his shoulder. Moira, the Templar from before, was rushing down the alleyway toward them.

She wore a horrified expression when she saw Emeric lying on the ground, lifeless. "Goodness, what happened?"

"Emeric was murdered," Hawke said. He moved to stand. "It wasn't DuPuis like he thought. It was someone else."

"Are you sure?" Moira asked.

"Positive. And he or she is still at large. The guard needs to keep an eye out. I'll alert Aveline if you'll keep your Templars on watch. Whoever killed Emeric is a powerful mage—they summoned demons from the Fade."

Moira ran her gloved hand down her face, a look of fear glimmering in her eyes. It soon hardened. She nodded firmly. "I'll be sure to let the others know. If he or she is in the city, they won't escape."

Once Moira left, Hawke rubbed his hands together. "This man needs to be found. Varric, see if you can't dig up some dirt on him from DuPuis."

Varric nodded. "No problem, Hawke."

"Once we get more information about him we'll work with DuPuis to find him and eradicate him before any more women fall in danger."

Thayer was sure that Hawke had the right idea, but something seemed very off about the way Emeric was killed. When he looked at Alistair, he appeared to have the same thought in mind.

_Something's weird_, his expression read.


	11. What Brings Us Closer

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone! Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I was on vacation all of the week before, and I didn't realize that the week before that, I'd forgotten to post. That was my fault. So without any further ado, here is the lovely chapter 11! Well, lovely in the sense of familial ties. This chapter is a bit angstier than others, and for those who've played the game and know what's coming up, then you'll understand. **

**Gatorsnacks: Unfortunately, I can't tell you otherwise about the upcoming scene. However, you'll see why. I feel this moment above all others is a real cohesive time for Garrett and Thayer. **

**Let me know what you think of the scene. This was one of my favorite chapters, primarily due to the last scene of the fic. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Finding the blood mage who killed Emeric had proven to be quite difficult. Over the course of the last two weeks, not a single new piece of information surfaced regarding his whereabouts…and more importantly, about his intent. Aveline, Hawke's friend in the guard, had turned up no information through her patrols. Even Varric, who had pulled some favors and dug dirt out of some of his informants, hadn't found anything. It was as if the man had disappeared completely off the map.<p>

Thayer had spent all afternoon with Hawke and Alistair rousing about Lowtown in a final attempt to find anything out, but to no avail. They returned home just as the sun was beginning to set.

"Suppose we'll have to wait for him to make a move," Alistair said, about to shut the front door behind him.

"Wait!"

The unfamiliar voice appeared out of nowhere. Thayer turned to look toward the door, only to see a somewhat gaunt figure trying to push his way through. He slipped past the doorframe and into the mansion, putting Thayer on guard.

"Uncle Gamlen?" Garrett asked in confusion.

Gamlen? This must have been Leandra's brother, the man she'd mentioned a few times since he'd arrived in Kirkwall. The stark contrast of him to Garrett was shocking—they couldn't have looked more different.

"Finally, I've found you." Gamlen approached Hawke and ran a hand down his face. "I've been trying to track you down the last few hours. Where's your mother? Is she feeling all right?"

Garrett blinked. "Can't imagine she'd be feeling any different, Uncle. Why?"

"She never showed up for our weekly visit. Is she here? I need to speak with her."

"We haven't been here all day," Thayer offered.

Gamlen gave him a sidelong glance. "Oh? And who are you?"

"That's Revka's son," Hawke said sharply.

Gamlen blanched. "Oh. Well, just what we need. More unnecessary family."

Hawke folded his arms over his chest. "You were saying?"

"I just need to speak with your mother and make sure she's all right. This isn't like her. Where could she be?"

"She might be with her suitor!"

From within the study appeared Bodahn, a warm smile on his face. He had several books in hand.

"_What_?" Gamlen asked incredulously. "Leandra has no suitor. She would have told me if someone were trying to woo her."

"Well, she got some lilies this morning. Come to think of it, that was the last time I saw her." Bodahn scratched his chin. "Sandal and I went to the market and when we came back, she was gone. I thought she'd just gone out with whoever sent her the flowers."

Thayer, Alistair and Hawke all looked at one another. A sense of dread filled Thayer, but he knew it had to be said.

"The killer."

Hawke hardened his expression. Gamlen looked at him, mouth agape. "What? What _killer_? What is this nonsense?"

"There's a killer around Kirkwall who's been sending women flowers before he murders them," Garrett replied slowly.

"Nonsense, your mother wouldn't fall for such stupidity."

"We'll get Aveline of the city guard to watch out for her," Hawke said. When Thayer opened his mouth to say something, he shot him a quick warning look. "Don't worry, Uncle."

Gamlen nodded. He swallowed hard. "Your mother must have just gotten lost in Lowtown. Maker knows she can't ever find her way anywhere. She'll pop up eventually. I'm going back to search for her."

Once Gamlen was out the front door, Alistair said, "We should go with him. The streets will thin out at night. If she's out there, we'll have better luck finding her."

"I'll stay here with Sandal in case she's gone out somewhere and comes back," Bodahn stated. "You lot go help Gamlen, I'm sure he could use it."

Hawke nodded. Thayer stared at him with interest. Though he wanted to ask him why he'd said what he did—Aveline was already on the case—he kept it to himself. He also didn't mention how distant Garrett had become in the last few moments. He didn't need to guess why.

Thayer cleared his throat. "When we go to Lowtown we can get Anders and have him help look."

Garrett just nodded again.

Alistair glanced at his partner curiously, but said nothing.

Hawke started for the door. "Come on, let's go."

. . . . .

"This is where the spell said he was," Gascard explained, voice lilting in slight confusion as he looked around him. He stepped around the corner, guiding Thayer, Alistair, Hawke, Anders and Varric down into a dimly lit corridor.

Anders brandished his staff as they walked further within. "Something's nearby, I can feel it. Or I suppose I should say, Justice can."

They continued down the path until they came into a large, open room with a high ceiling and light pouring in from every direction. Thayer wasn't sure where they were, or where the light was coming from. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought it was being magically synthesized.

On the other side of the room stood a man—a mage—in front of a large throne-like chair. The temperature around them seemed to fall upon Thayer's realization that someone was sitting before the man.

Thayer's heart dropped into his stomach.

Leandra…

"I was wondering when you'd show up," the man said, moving around the side of the chair. He approached the group. He wore a sideways smirk. "Leandra was so sure you'd come for her."

"Yes, well, my mother did always know me best," Hawke spat back acidly.

"Quentin!"

Gascard's sudden outburst caught everyone's attention. This mage was named Quentin?

Quentin's smirk transformed into a surprised smile. "Ah, Gascard. Look at you. You've finally found me. I thought you'd have given up by now."

"You murdered his sister," Hawke growled. "Do you think he would just forget this?"

"Oh, is that what he told you, then?" Quentin chuckled in amusement. "No, Gascard could never do such a thing. Not after I got him started on this path."

Garrett looked at Gascard incredulously. "You lied to me? Bastard!"

"I didn't lie to you, exactly," Gascard said, stepping back. "I'd always planned on killing Quentin. When we kill him, you get your mother back, and I get his research so I can finally learn that which I deserved to ages ago!"

"There's no need for that," Quentin said. "My work is complete…my obsession is over. I've done what I set out to do." He extended his hand to Gascard. "Come back to me, Gascard, and I will teach you everything you deserve to know."

Gascard's expression softened into surprise. He blinked a few times, starting to move toward Quentin. "Y-You…you mean, we can work together again? We can—"

Before Gascard was able to finish his sentence he was shot in the throat by an arrow. He sputtered out helplessly, collapsing onto the ground. From his wound pooled a collection of blood.

Hawke's mouth was agape. "Did you just—"

Varric held his weapon at his side, shrugging his shoulders a few times. "What? You were going to do it yourself. Right?"

Quentin chuckled. "It would seem he met the unfortunate demise he had always feared. It's no matter; I didn't need nor want him."

"Tell me what you did with my mother," Garrett hissed.

"You will never understand what I've accomplished. Your mother…she was chosen to be a part of something greater. Something exemplary."

"I don't care what she was a part of!" Garrett yelled. "Where is my mother?"

Quentin's face contorted into a twisted smirk. "Do you know what the strongest force in the universe is? Love. I pieced her together bit by bit, year after year…her hands, her skin, her delicate, slender fingers…" He circled the chair. "And her face. That beautiful face…"

Thayer watched in horror as the figure sitting in the chair staggered to stand up. She wore a veil and a dingy wedding dress, making it all the more terrifying. What scared him most was the face. He knew that face.

"Leandra!" he gasped.

"I'll kill you!" Hawke yelled, brandishing his staff. "

"You'll never understand!" Quentin pulled out his own staff, and in one swift move Thayer and the others were blasted back from him. Below his feet glowed a glyph that had repelled them away.

"Bastard!" Garrett spun his staff around, then swung it in an arc before him. A wave of frozen shards shot toward Quentin but were suddenly blocked by undead creatures that had begun crawling out of the ground.

Thayer brandished his staff but Garrett growled, "Leave Quentin to me!"

Giving his cousin a nod, the Warden-Commander turned his attention upon an undead warrior that was coming at him full force with its sword. The animated corpse tried to slice him but Thayer stabbed it with his staff, combusting its body and sending pieces flying in every which direction. He looked over his shoulder and saw Varric shooting dozens of arrows into the air, which then rained down and stabbed multiple undead through the head, feet and hands, disabling them.

"I should wish for your death, Hawke!" Quentin said eagerly. "The abomination one could create from you would be unstoppable!"

In a fit of rage Garrett sent a powerful blast of electrical energy at Quentin, hitting him square in the chest. The blood mage flew back into the wall with a grunt.

Leandra stumbled toward Hawke but he drew a glyph beneath her feet, paralyzing her.

"Don't move. Just…don't move," he muttered darkly.

The fight continued, undead soldiers continuing to fall until none remained. Thayer, Alistair, Anders and Varric stood behind Hawke, watching Quentin carefully to ensure he didn't call for any more minions.

"Your mother is gone," Quentin stated. "She no longer inhabits this body I've created. This…_this_ is my beloved. And nothing will change that."

"No!"

Thayer stepped forward and stood by Garrett's side. For a brief moment the two shared a look, and Thayer felt the overwhelming pain in his cousin's expression.

He extended his hand—offering his power—to Hawke. At first the other seemed confused, but he caught on. The two gripped hold of one another, and in a unified move, they extended their staves forward and blasted Quentin with a combined force of lightning and flame. The blood mage's body stiffened, blazing head to toe with pure, overwhelming energy. His screams filled the small cavern, and soon his body collapsed upon the ground, singed black and sizzling.

Hawke pulled away immediately afterward, running toward his mother.

Thayer followed after him. He kept his distance, but could see Leandra's face—could see her clouded eyes and pale complexion. Quentin's magic had to have been keeping her alive. Now…

"Don't move, Mother. We'll get you out of here…find a way to…" Garrett trailed off.

"Shh, darling, don't fret. It will all be all right."

"His magic…" Anders began. "His magic was keeping her alive. Can you feel it?"

Hawke didn't give any sign of acknowledgement. He gripped his mother's hand, pursing his lips tightly together.

"I always knew you'd come and find me. But it's too late now. It was unexpected. Don't blame yourself." Leandra briefly closed her eyes, her breath labored.

"I should have—"

"Shh…" Leandra lips curled into a faint smile. "I'll be with your father and sister now. You'll have your brother. I hope you two can eventually see eye to eye. Carver admires you so."

Garrett let out a weak laugh. "I love you, Mother."

"I love you too, Garrett. You've always made me so proud…"

Thayer watched as Leandra's eyes slowly closed for good, her head lilting off to the side. He saw Hawke shake his head and grip her tighter.

Under his breath, Thayer murmured, "Good-bye."

. . . . .

Thayer couldn't sleep that night. Even with Bodahn's patented warm tea and honey filling his belly, he found no peace.

He couldn't stop thinking of Leandra, of the pain he saw in his cousin's eyes. It was indescribable—the sheer terror that racked Garrett's being when they had to take her body with them so she could receive a proper burial. Hawke had kept uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entire ordeal, even with Anders, which was surprising. He had told himself he would speak with him in the morning, but as more and more time passed, it didn't seem like such a great idea. Garrett was hurting. He would need some time alone to recuperate.

Thayer ended up getting out of bed that night and heading into the kitchen to get himself another warm drink in hopes that it might help him sleep. After stirring some honey into some mead, Thayer started for the exit, stopping himself abruptly at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.

It was Garrett.

To Thayer's surprise, it was he who spoke first. "Can't sleep?"

"No."

"What a surprise. Me, neither."

Garrett drifted past him, his eyes gaunt and a little red. He was clearly distraught, but Thayer made no move to mention it. Instead he turned around and wandered back into the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen island and taking a sip of his drink.

"It's times like this I wish I was adept at potions so I could drug and knock myself out." Hawke rummaged around in the cabinets, his back to Thayer. He craned his neck and looked back at the other. "Where'd you get that?" Thayer pointed to the cabinet next to the iron stove. "Thanks."

Garrett fixed himself a drink in silence. Thayer watched him curiously as he consumed all but a tiny bit. The mead was strong—how in the world had he handled that?

He didn't know what to say.

Apparently, neither did Garrett. The two men stood at the kitchen island in silence for what felt like a lifetime. Thayer drank from his goblet up until he'd nearly finished it. At that point, he finally said the only thing that felt appropriate.

"I'm sorry about your mother."

"Me, too. And as much as I want to dwell on what happened, I know I can't. Plenty to be done, all that. You know."

"Are you going to write to your brother?"

"Of course I am. What kind of question is that?" Garrett shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm…"

"Don't worry about it."

"Carver's going to blame me, just like Uncle Gamlen did. Just like everybody else will. I didn't do my job well enough of protecting her."

Thayer wasn't sure that disagreeing with him would do any good. He'd felt this way before personally with the countless innocent people he'd lost under his command. As nice as it was to have someone tell you otherwise, deep down, only you could pull yourself out of that miasma.

He took his goblet to the sink. He turned around and leaned against it. "Whatever you need, Garrett. I'm here."

Hawke nodded. "Thanks."

The exchange, though minimal, had taxed him. Plenty needed to be said, needed to be aired out, but Thayer knew he wasn't the right person for that. Garrett would speak with Anders just as Thayer had spoken with Alistair in times of duress. There were just some things you needed that one person for. Nonetheless, he was family, in a league all of his own. He provided a much different kind of support.

He yawned. Oh, that blessed feeling. He was finally getting tired. Maybe he would be able to sleep now without incident. He wished as much.

"You'll get through it," Thayer offered. "But do it on your own terms. Nobody can tell you how to grieve."

They shared a look from across the kitchen. Garrett nodded again, interwove his fingers atop the kitchen island, and then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath through his nose.

Thayer started for the exit again. "Whatever you need," he repeated, taking his leave for his bedroom.


	12. A Surprise Visitor

**Author's Notes: Hi all! Shorter chapter than usual, but as always, I have my reasons. ;) Enjoy!**

**Gatorsnacks: Ugh, I hated him. When he did what he did I couldn't help but enjoy killing him-he really deserved it...**

* * *

><p>Garrett's mood improved over the course of the next few weeks. After setting a proper burial and funeral for his mother, Thayer noticed that things became somewhat simpler for him. Though there were still plenty of things to do, he did not hide away from them as some people might. He never gave one-hundred percent focus to anything, but Thayer figured it was far too early to concern himself with that. Anders didn't seem to be too worried. He remained steadfast by Hawke's side whenever time permitted him to be away from his clinic.<p>

Alistair used this time to continue with his conditioning. He'd become close to Fenris, the elven warrior, with whom he trained his combat tactics. That gave Thayer the time to help Hawke wherever necessary, as well as the time to focus on his own skills. He had grown lax with his morning meditation; not having a set schedule as he did back in Amaranthine had thrown him off.

One afternoon, just shortly after lunch, Thayer was on his way out of the estate with Alistair. They were stopped just shy of the foyer by Bodahn. He had a smile on his face.

"You've a visitor, Commander!"

"A visitor?"

"Yes, come on, they're waiting for you in the entry!"

Thayer followed Bodahn, perplexed. He knew few people in Kirkwall, but his presence here had become more and more known over the course of the last two months. It was entirely possible that someone had come looking for a favor—they always did.

But to his surprise, the man standing in the doorway was no stranger. It was Nathaniel Howe, one of the wardens Thayer had recruited back in Amaranthine.

"Nathaniel!"

"Commander!"

Nathaniel moved swiftly toward him, putting his arms around Thayer in an amicable hug. When they broke apart he wore a relieved smile. "So you _are_ still here. Thank the Maker. Seneschal Varel will be glad I've found you."

_Seneschal Varel._ Thayer's stomach twisted. His duties back home…he'd not forgotten them completely—only shoved them back somewhere deep into his mind.

"Yes, I'm still here." He chuckled, albeit somewhat nervously. "So, he sent you after me, did he?"

"Oh, oh! Here's where I get to say, told you so," Alistair said, a smarmy grin on his face.

"Oh, shut up." Thayer turned to Nathaniel. "What did he say?"

Nathaniel laughed. "Well, he told me to make sure you were doing all right and to see when you planned on returning."

"As you can see, all fine and dandy here. As for returning…"

Well, that he hadn't given much thought to. Not because he didn't _want_ to return, more so because circumstances were far different now than they had been upon his arrival to Kirkwall.

"You…you _are_ returning, right, Commander?"

"Of course. It's just that things are a little more complicated now. Here, come join us in the sitting room. I'll tell you all about it."

Thayer proceeded to brief Nathaniel on what had gone on while in Kirkwall. He was careful to avoid the fact that he had come here specifically for Alistair, instead only mentioning he'd gotten word from Anders, which had prompted his visit. He explained how he then found out about Garrett and his family. When he finished up with where they were now, Nathaniel looked surprised.

"Maker, you don't ever get a break, do you?" Nathaniel asked.

"He's the Warden-Commander," Alistair said. He smirked at his lover. "Of course he doesn't."

"You're awfully smarmy today," Thayer said, a smirk of his own appearing. "You'd better watch it."

"Or what?"

"I don't want to know," Nathaniel interjected. He shook his head. "Anyway. I told the Seneschal that I'd find out what happened, but he specifically asked me to try and get you to come back. There are a lot of important decisions he's holding off on since it's your arling."

Alistair sighed. "Vacation over."

Thayer nodded firmly. "It _is_ my arling. I have to make sure the people don't feel abandoned."

"You're an arl, too, huh? Boy, you don't make it easy being your cousin."

Thayer blinked, turning toward the entry of the sitting room. Garrett stood in the archway with his arms folded over his chest. "Garrett. Oh!" He gestured to Nathaniel, moving to stand. "Nathaniel, this is my cousin, Garrett Hawke. Garrett, this is Nathaniel. He's one of my recruits from Amaranthine."

Garrett moved into the room, reaching out to shake Nathaniel's hand. He sat down in one of the extra seats. "So, your arling in Ferelden in some trouble?"

"Not trouble, exactly," Alistair said. "He just needs to go play arl and make some decisions about money."

"Among other things," Thayer expounded. "Which means I'm going to have to head back to Ferelden."

"When do you leave?" Garrett asked.

"It'd be best if we packed up and left as soon as possible." Thayer ran a hand through his hair. "Suppose we should head back in the morning with Nathaniel."

Garrett nodded. "Does he need a place to stay?"

"Oh, I don't mean to impose," Nathaniel said.

"Nonsense. Feel free to stay in the guest room for the night." Hawke curtly bowed his head. His demeanor changed, and his tone grew distant. "I just came in to say I'm going out for the afternoon. I'll be back tonight."

Thayer opened his mouth to speak, however Garrett disappeared from the sitting room before he had a chance. Something felt off about the whole situation but he resolved to figure it out later. For now, they had to start packing.

. . . . .

Thayer hated feeling guilty.

As more time passed throughout the day, he began to feel as if he were abandoning his cousin in his time of need. Aside from Gamlen, Garrett had absolutely no family present to help him get through his day to day activities. Granted, he could take care of himself, but sometimes life was easier knowing that you had that support present, even if you didn't actively pursue it. Now, with Thayer returning to Amaranthine, that support would rely solely on a man whose shoulders couldn't even handle the weight of his parents. Could Gamlen really be trusted in a time like this to be reassuring?

Hawke still hadn't returned by nightfall. Dinner passed by without him, which left Thayer feeling somewhat anxious. He knew he really shouldn't worry—Garrett was a grown man, after all—but given the circumstances, it was beyond his control. He was a worrywart and he hated it.

He and Alistair spent their night packing up their things. As was usual, the two of them had only really brought what they could carry on their own backs, which meant that a good portion of packing time was spent stopping and reminiscing. A lot had happened in the short few months they were here together, which made the whole stay feel that much longer. Thayer could barely believe how much had changed so quickly.

But something continued to nag him. Despite himself, while lying on the bed with Alistair, he asked him, "Do you think Garrett will be all right?"

"He'll be fine. Why are you worrying? He's an adult."

"I don't know, maybe because he just lost his mother, his brother and his sister all within the span of a few years?"

"He didn't _lose_ his brother. He just…doesn't see him anymore."

"You know what I mean. And now he's finding out that I have to go back to Amaranthine. He's going to be alone."

"Not alone. He'll have what's-his-name. Gamlen."

Thayer furrowed his brow. "You really think Gamlen is going to be good company at a time like this?"

"What? Are you saying he's going to struggle getting by without you? That's awfully egotistical for someone who's usually humble to a fault."

Something about that sentence bothered Thayer. He wasn't sure what it was. Did Alistair have a point? _Was_ he being egotistical? Or was he just trying to make sure his cousin had support?

Thayer pulled away from Alistair, sitting up on the bed. "I just wonder how it's going to affect him, losing another family member so quickly. I'm not trying to be egomaniacal or anything. Did you see how he changed when I told him I had to go? He got distant. And he _still_ isn't back yet."

"You're worrying too much."

"You're worrying too little."

Something about that sounded familiar, as if he'd had this argument with Alistair before. He shrugged it off. Thayer knew Hawke had Anders, too, to help keep him upbeat and focused.

Now he couldn't stop thinking about why he'd gotten so upset about it all in the first place. Maybe Alistair was right—maybe Thayer did have an inflated ego.

Maybe, just maybe, he was used to being the one everyone came to when things needed fixing.

"I didn't upset you, did I?" Alistair asked in concern. He moved closer to Thayer again, reaching out to pull him close. "Didn't mean to, love."

"No, you didn't. I'm just overthinking things. Nothing out of the ordinary here."

Thayer eased himself into Alistair's embrace, closing his eyes. He'd put everything back home on the backburner to find his partner, and now that he had him, it was inevitable that he had to go back. On some level he missed Amaranthine, missed Ferelden, but he'd greatly enjoyed his time in Kirkwall. After all, he'd found blood family—the one thing he had never been given the chance to actively pursue.

"Oh…"

That reminded him. He remembered what Leandra had said about his brother, Daylen. He vowed to visit the Circle Tower after squaring things away in Amaranthine so he could figure out what happened to him. With any luck, Wynne would have some knowledge of his brother. If not, maybe Irving.

"Oh, what?"

"Hm? Oh. Daylen. My brother. Another loose end to tie up when we go back home."

Alistair gave an overdramatic sigh. "You're lucky I love you, Thayer Amell. I wouldn't be traveling the world with just anyone."

Thayer paused. Had Alistair just said…?

"Did you just—"

"I—_Oh_."

Thayer looked up at Alistair curiously. The blond's cheeks turned a vibrant shade of red, and he stared away quickly.

"Did you just say you love me?"

Warmth spread throughout Thayer's entire being. It was an indescribable sensation that tugged at the corners of his mouth, making him smile. When Alistair refused to look at him the mage sat up, crawling into his line of sight. Alistair looked so _embarrassed_. It was precious.

"What are you so upset about?" Thayer asked. He pinched the warrior's cheeks. "I love you, too, Alistair Theirin."

"Oy, don't pinch the cheeks."

Alistair remained brilliantly red, but he stared Thayer in the eyes, genuine admiration and adoration radiating from him. Thayer hugged him tightly. When he pulled back, he kissed the warrior deeply.

"Ready to go back home?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, now that I've bared my heart and soul. It's your witchy powers, I swear it. You drew it out of me."

Thayer smirked. "Whatever makes you sleep better at night."

Alistair grinned almost bashfully. "Yes, yes, that'll do quite nicely."


	13. Goodbye

**Author's Notes: Here we are with chapter thirteen! Dirty times ahead! I won't say when, or where, or any of the juicy details, but just know that this chapter will definitely be rated M. Haha! So please enjoy. ;)**

**Gatorsnacks: No ruining the fun...don't worry, it all works out in the end! Nathaniel's wonderful! :D**

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><p>"You still remember the way, right, Commander?"<p>

Nathaniel gave Thayer and Alistair a grin, taking a few quick steps ahead up and over the hill leading to Vigil's Keep. The trip from Kirkwall had been long and arduous, as was always the case when traveling by boat. Thayer wondered why he kept doing it when he'd sworn himself he wouldn't. Maybe he just liked to torture himself.

With spring in full bloom now, the path to the keep was paved in lush greenery and blossoming trees. A sweet smell swept through with the cool afternoon breeze. They'd timed their walk perfectly: spring afternoons in Ferelden were the best time to experience the nation at its most beautiful.

Vigil's Keep looked vaguely different than Thayer remembered leaving it—the stone walls were smoother, more polished. The grounds carried more individuals and more carts than it had before. How could so much have happened in just a few months?

"Ah, Warden-Commander!"

Seneschal Varel stepped down the stairs leading to the throne room, offering a brief wave in greeting. For the first time ever, Thayer saw the man in just a simple set of finery.

"Seneschal Varel! Look at you. No armor on? Never thought I'd see the day."

Varel laughed. "Repairs, ser. My armor is being remodeled and upgraded by Wade. He found some new materials and decided he wanted to have us all in new spring sets." The older man folded his arms over his chest, taking in the sight of Thayer's companions. His eyes widened. "Alistair! You've returned!"

Alistair smiled. "Yep, back from the great abyss, I am."

"You know, while the Warden-Commander was out, I was tempted to go search for you in Redcliffe, but I decided against it. How's Arl Eamon doing?"

Thayer and Alistair shared a look of relief. The blonde said, "He's doing well now. Tip top shape. Couldn't be better, really."

"Ah, yes, well, fantastic. That should allow you both to take the reins back. Things have been relatively easy-going here, but you know, the day to day can only be dealt with so much. There is plenty that only the Wardens can assist with. And above all, the arl, himself."

Thayer nodded in agreement. "Yes, please, fill us in on the status of the keep since my departure. Shall we head to the throne room?"

"You've only just arrived, Commander," Nathaniel said in concern. "You don't want to take a break? That was a long trip."

"No, I'm perfectly fine. No need to worry."

Thayer waved his hand in dismissal, starting for the steps to the throne room. It was better to learn what they were coming into as early as possible. In his experience, learning upfront gave him more time to plan ahead. Spontaneity was better saved for Alistair, who seemed to handle things on the fly and somehow survive. Thayer, on the other hand, calculated wherever possible.

"Well, Commander, here is the present state of things…"

Seneschal Varel proceeded to explain how things in the keep had been since his sojourn. The Wardens who had survived the Joining prior to Thayer's departure had worked with the new recruits, all of whom were prepared to undergo the ceremony. Varel had held off performing it only because the decision lay with Thayer. Now that he had returned, they could become full-fledged Wardens and their numbers would once again increase.

The mage recruits had become restless due to having nobody to watch over them and their growth, and as such had begun to slowly seclude themselves from the others. It had proved to be of little consequence until recently, as it had been rumored that Thayer would not be returning.

"Well, they don't have to worry about that," he said firmly.

Varel discussed the growth of the keep and the city. Their recovery following the destruction of the Architect and the darkspawn had staggered at first, however recently it had become steady. The main concern was how revenue seemed to decrease in spite of this. That was something Thayer would have to investigate by visiting the city itself—the main port of business.

Thayer couldn't believe the news that followed.

"Leliana…seems to have disappeared."

Nathaniel confirmed this. "We weren't entirely sure what happened. She was here the day before I left for Kirkwall. She was supposed to go with me. I went to check on her in the morning and all of her things were packed up. She left a note, but it only said '_Good-bye_'."

Thayer's natural reaction was disbelief. How could she simply disappear?

"She didn't say anything about it to anyone?" he inquired.

"Nothing," Varel confirmed.

"That's not like her," Alistair said, shaking his head. "She isn't the type to just up and leave."

Feelings of betrayal bubbled up inside of Thayer until reality slapped him across the face.

He'd done the same thing not but a few months prior.

Thayer wanted to say something right then and there, but in truth, it was something only he and Alistair would understand. Varel and Nathaniel, while wonderful men in their own right, had not been through hell and back like he and his partner had been with Leliana. He wondered what had caused her to leave, wondered where she had gone...and mostly importantly, if she was coming back.

"With any luck, she'll come back," Thayer said. He tried not to show too much concern. He didn't want Varel thinking he would up and leave to go find her after only having just returned. "I may send someone to search for her, but knowing Leliana, she had some reason. She always does."

He looked to Nathaniel. "I suppose that means the duty of looking over our rogues falls solely to you, now."

Nathaniel nodded. "First Zevran, now Leliana. Don't worry, Commander. I'm not going anywhere any time soon. You can count on me. The new Wardens can assist me in training recruits as they've been doing."

Thayer swelled with pride at the loyalty that rang in Nathaniel's words. Even after disappearing as he had for months on end, Howe's son had stayed at the ready. It meant a lot to him.

But Leliana...

He hoped she was all right.

"That's it, for the most part, Commander. There's more we can discuss tomorrow, after you've had a chance to recuperate from your travels." Seneschal Varel straightened out his shirt and cleared his throat. He moved to stand. "While you and Alistair retire to your quarters, I'm going to see about having a welcome dinner put together." He smiled genuinely. "Welcome back, Commander. Alistair."

"Thank you," the two said in unison.

Nathaniel stood as well. He took a brief bow. "If you need me, Commander, I'll be in the combat room."

Thayer waited until both Varel and Nathaniel were out of the throne room to let out a deep sigh. He rubbed his forehead, creating lines on top of the creases already present.

"I can't believe she's gone."

"Me, either. Who'd've thought she'd just up and disappear?"

"Not me, for one." The mage worried his lip. "We just barely missed her…what would have been so important that she wouldn't leave us a note?"

Alistair snapped his fingers. "She very well could have. They didn't check our room, did they?"

A glimmer of hope. Thayer blinked, but nodded in agreement. He was up before he realized it. "Come on, let's check."

Though they had been away for quite some time, it took little effort to find their way through the maze of the keep toward the living quarters. When they stepped into their room, both began combing over each and every available surface to try and find a letter. Thayer's search turned up nothing. Alistair's, however, resulted in a triumphant shout.

"Found it!"

The two of them met at their sitting table near the cobblestone fireplace. In Alistair's hands was a simple piece of parchment paper rolled up with a ribbon Thayer recognized as one of Leliana's hair ties. Written in Leliana's elegant script across the small tag she'd attached was Thayer's name.

"Well, open it, come on, then!" Thayer urged.

Alistair fumbled with undoing the tie. As the parchment unfolded before them, he turned it to his partner in a clear gesture of _go on, read it._

And so, Thayer read aloud:

"_Thayer,_

_When you read this, I will be gone. I must trust that whatever reason you left for was a private matter for you and you alone. I hope you've returned safely and find this note in good health._

_I wish we'd had a chance to say good-bye. You have been a most outstanding friend and leader. I will remember you always. You inspired me in more ways than I can explain. Perhaps someday you'll hear the story I've written about you sung by bards everywhere. It is my dream to share your journey—our journey—through Ferelden and beyond._

_You may be asking where I've disappeared to. I've gone to seek a greater truth. I must do what's best for me. I feel as if there is no better time but now. _

_May we meet again, my friend. Bonne chance!_

_Always,_

_Leliana"_

Thayer quickly wiped a tear from his eye. It had come out of nowhere, stealth-like. He didn't realize that Leliana's absence would affect him so powerfully. Then again, as she'd alluded to, they'd never had a chance to say good-bye.

"Sure knows how to write a letter, doesn't she?"

When the mage looked at his companion, he realized Alistair had a few tears in his eyes as well. Despite himself, he chuckled, moving closer to wipe one away with his thumb.

"You big softie. This is why I love you."

"Yes, well, I'm quite the sap, didn't you know?"

Thayer looked over Leliana's letter again before slowly rolling it up and tying it with her hair tie. He set it atop their sitting table and stared at it for a moment.

He had always known that someday, both Zevran and Leliana would leave his side, just as Wynne, Sten, Morrigan, Anders, Velanna and Sigrun had. There was something inexplicably tough, however, about losing Leliana. It felt like a light had been snuffed, and would never be rekindled again.

"I hope wherever she is, she's okay," Alistair said.

"A greater truth…"

Thayer had a feeling she'd returned to the Chantry. In that case, he wished her the best. Part of her would always ache for the thrill of battle, he knew, but she found much more solace in the arms of the Maker. Strange, he thought, that she would choose now, of all times, to leave. He would miss her dearly.

He closed his eyes.

Yet another good-bye.

. . . . .

Thayer stirred underneath the soft down cover of his bed, bleary eyes opening and taking in the glowing morning light. As he stretched his arms above his head he took a moment to revel in the warmth of the sun's rays. He rubbed his face with his hands, then rolled to the side. He began to say something and then stopped.

Alistair wasn't there.

Bemused, the mage blinked. Where could he have gotten off to?

"Alistair?" he called.

When no reply came, Thayer climbed out of bed and stretched once more. He was likely in the bathroom. While he waited for the other, he dressed himself, slipping in to some common robes he could wear around their living quarters until he was ready to start the day.

After a few minutes passed and Alistair still did not turn up, Thayer decided he was going to double check his previous suspicion. He wandered down the hall and into the bathroom. To his surprise, the entire room was pristine, as if it hadn't been used in days.

Strange…

_Maybe he's in the eatery_, Thayer thought.

He returned to their bedroom, prepared to change into something more presentable, when he noticed a single roll of parchment sitting atop their bed. At first he brushed it off as Leliana's letter, until something drew his eyes in: Alistair's familiar scrawl.

He approached the bed and opened the letter, unease building within him.

Thayer found it hard to focus on what was written on the parchment, and yet somehow, his brain was able to piece together the only important information: Alistair had left.

The thought didn't compute. Where did he go? How had he left without Thayer waking up? What was this?

Anxiety overtook him then; Thayer found it difficult to concentrate. Everything he had worked so hard for, had fought for—_gone_. It couldn't be, he thought. This simply could not be.

"Alistair?" he called, rushing out of their quarters and down the hall.

He hurried through the keep and toward the eatery, hoping beyond all hope that he'd find his lover there, chowing down on a ham and cheese croissant. Strangely enough, not a single soul was present.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, sending his feet on a direct course for the throne room. Again, no one. The combat room—nobody. The prison—not a soul.

"Alistair!" Thayer yelled out on the grounds, overwhelmed with a growing sense of hysteria.

He couldn't have left. They had fixed their problems, hadn't they? By Andraste, he'd gone all the way to Kirkwall! This was preposterous!

"Alistair! Alistair!"

Thayer couldn't contain himself any longer. He cried out, exasperation and fear swallowing him whole. His surroundings obscured, blacking out at the corners until they faded away completely.

"_Alistair!"_

"Thayer. Thayer, wake up!"

Thayer awoke with a start. He shot straight up, clutching at his chest. His heart raced. He took in several sharp breaths, exhaling with visible vapor. His nightmare had broken his focus on his magic, causing him to drastically reduce the surrounding temperature.

He looked beside him, finally realizing the warmth on his bare shoulder. It came from Alistair's hand, who was holding on firmly, worry etched into his features.

"Thayer. Maker, are you all right?"

Relief washed over him in waves. Driven completely on instinct and adrenaline, Thayer moved in and kissed Alistair passionately. He caught the other off guard, but within moments he was responding. The mage urged his partner back down against the bed, continuing to kiss him with every fiber of his being. There was no describing how he felt—something had taken him over, and he needed to express it.

The two men continued to explore one another's bodies: kissing, caressing, and grinding until Thayer pulled back, burying his face into the other's neck.

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered breathlessly against the hot, flushed skin.

"I'm not going anywhere," Alistair said, a hint of confusion in his voice.

He groaned as Thayer suddenly took hold of his manhood. The mage began to stroke it, lightly at first, quickly building a rhythm that made Alistair moan in encouragement. He continued to lavish the warrior with his mouth, unable to get enough of the physical contact between the two of them. He moved his lips from the muscled neck up his jaw line and finally to his ear. Alistair's stubble scratched and itched, but he ignored it.

"Alistair, I need you inside me," Thayer groaned, nuzzling his lover's ear.

The blond nodded, grunting as the two of them shifted. Alistair took charge at that moment by guiding Thayer onto his back against the bed, climbing in between his legs. He spit into his palm and gripped hold of his erection, shuddering.

They shared only a look before he gently pushed in. Though it hurt, Thayer did his best to overlook it. He'd learned to work his way through the first few minutes of pain. Alistair pushed deeper inside, waiting momentarily before beginning to build a rhythm of his own. As time went on, his thrusts became deeper, faster—soon he was leaning over, his muscles glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

As their bodies rocked together, Thayer stroked his own length, unable to tear his gaze away from the focus and intensity within Alistair's eyes.

"Nngh, Thayer, I'm—_oh_...!"

Alistair slipped out with just enough time to experience his climax. He rode through it with his eyes clenched shut, spilling himself onto Thayer's lower half. As he began to come down from the high, his flushed chest heaved with deep breaths.

Thayer fell into ecstasy as his own climax took him over shortly after. He spilled onto his stomach, every inch of his body coiling and springing outward. A shiver traveled up his spine and caused him to tremble. He hadn't felt an orgasm that intense in quite some time—not since the first time they had had sex following their reunion.

The warrior, still hovering over the mage, slowly lowered himself until he was lying atop him. Thayer wrapped his arms around him tightly, eagerly. He stroked his fingers through the blond strands of hair and closed his eyes. He was spent.

"Don't go anywhere," Thayer murmured softly.

Alistair sighed in contentment. Thayer could tell he was enjoying the gentle touches on his scalp, down his back and over his freckled shoulders.

Whatever had taken him over had apparently been sated. With their proximity, Thayer was already beginning to feel like himself again. The haze that came post coitus had finally faded, allowing him to recall his nightmare with more clarity. He had been so heartbroken and terrified at the idea of Alistair leaving.

Eventually he let the other slip away beside him. After cleaning himself off with a handkerchief nearby Thayer rolled over and faced him.

Alistair murmured, "Are you okay, love? Where did that come from? Not that I'm complaining…"

"Nightmare. You just…left. I broke down."

Alistair spoke more seriously than before. "I'm never going anywhere. You know that, right?"

"I know. I think it was Leliana's letter."

"Mm…"

The blond reached out and brought Thayer close, sharing an intimate kiss with him. He urged him around, scooting himself close. The mage felt Alistair's heart beating against his back. It had fallen into its normal pace, calming and soothing.

"I love you," Alistair murmured against Thayer's ear. "Always."

"I love you, too," Thayer replied, curling his fingers around his lover's hand.


	14. New Recruits

**Author's Notes: Hopefully that little bit of dirtiness was enough to wake everyone up ;) I know I enjoyed it! I know that for quite a while I was alluding to what it was they were doing; I never wanted to just insert pointless sessins in because I didn't feel like it fit. However, in that last chapter, it not only seemed appropriate, it was like I was compelled to put it in. Thayer has a lot going on in his head, and somehow, I don't think Alistair minded the effect. Haha!**

**Here is chapter fourteen. A familiar (and dear to Thayer) friend reappears in the chapter, so yay! **

**We're coming to a close within the next few chapters...hard to believe this story, too, has been a part of my life for so long. I love it to pieces, and I know some of you all do, too! Please don't forget to review!**

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><p>When he truly awoke the following morning, Thayer's muscles ached. He and Alistair had fallen asleep nestled against each other, and that was the position in which he'd awoken. He carefully pulled himself away from his lover, letting his muscles stretch and relax. Alistair stirred from the motions, opening his eyes but not really focusing them.<p>

It wasn't until Thayer felt a painful pinching on his stomach and in his groin that he recalled what happened the night before. He would need a long, hot bath to help bring himself back to business.

"Mm, morning," Alistair mumbled, yawning.

"Morning…"

Both men took their time getting ready. Thayer performed his morning exercises while Alistair spent a few minutes waking up, simply lying in the bed. Thayer kept himself close to Alistair on a mostly subconscious level throughout the rest of the morning—they bathed together, dressed together and headed down to breakfast together.

It wasn't until they had finished their meal and were getting ready to tackle the day's business that Alistair took Thayer aside in the throne room to speak with him.

"Are you all right this morning? Everything okay after…last night?"

Thayer nodded. "Yes, of course. Why?"

"You've been attached to my hip all morning, love. Not that I mind, but it's not normal for the independent man I know."

Had he really been that bad, he wondered? He didn't want to be _that_ man—the one who worried incessantly about being left alone.

It clicked suddenly within his head. Abandonment. Stupid though it seemed, he wondered if that was what had caused him to have such a terrifying dream. He'd grown close to Alistair, and then he had left. He'd grown close to Zevran, and he had left, as well. He'd also grown very close to Leliana, and then _she_ disappeared. Not to mention that he'd just found out about siblings he had about which he'd never known. It was only a matter of time before his heart couldn't handle any more of it all.

"I promise: I ran away once. Never again."

Alistair's sincerity rang clear. Thayer moved in close, ghosting his lips over the other's. The touch was electric.

"I trust you."

"And I you. Now…" Alistair reluctantly pulled back. "I'm going to check on our new Wardens. You want to do the same with the mages? See what you can do about them?"

Thayer nodded. "We'll reconvene in the throne room before lunch."

"Sounds good. Be safe."

"You, too."

Thayer watched Alistair disappear around the corner and out onto the grounds. He ran a hand through his hair. His emotions were in a strange twist, making it more difficult than usual to focus completely. That dream had done quite the number on him—he wished he could push it out of sight, out of mind.

He took a few moments to bring himself to center before heading deeper into the keep. As they only had three mage recruits in total, he knew he would find them grouped together in their favorite haunt: the library.

As he wandered to his destination, he recalled how he'd come across his three recruits. Two of them were fraternal elven twins he'd found on the run outside of Amaranthine. They had set up camp in the Wending Wood, where Thayer had taken to spending significant amounts of time once Alistair had left. It had taken some coaxing to get them interested in the concept of fighting for the greater good, but when he offered them asylum by providing them with a place to live, learn and grow, they were willing to do anything. After their previous experience as house servants for a prominent family in Amaranthine, they both concluded anything was better.

Their names were Enid and Garen. They were somewhere around Thayer's age, or so he assumed; he'd never asked them directly and had no intention of doing so.

His third, and senior most recruit, had been brought to him by Zevran and Leliana shortly after Alistair's departure. Rhiannon was a proud woman from Highever who had traveled to Denerim and had been working in Wonders of Thedas. She was an apostate who had hidden her magic ability until an incident had led her to flee the safety of the city. Zevran and Leliana convinced her to come to Amaranthine and use her spell-work to benefit the Grey Warden order.

As the Warden-Commander and the only real mage left in the hierarchy, Thayer had taken all three of them under his care and tutelage. In his haste to find his lover, he hadn't thought how his sudden disappearance would affect those who looked up to him.

Mistakes were easy to make. Repairing the damage was the hard part.

When he arrived in the library, he found the three mages within, just as he had expected. News apparently had already gotten around the keep that he'd returned, as all three turned from their respective locations around the room to take notice of his arrival.

"Commander!" Enid said. "It's true, you are back!"

"I am," he said. "I apologize for disappearing for so long. There were some private matters I had to attend to that took far longer than I anticipated."

"We're glad to see you back, Commander," Rhiannon said. Thayer did a double-take at her appearance—her brilliant red hair that had once been braided in a plait now framed her face in a short cut.

"Rhiannon, your hair," he said, surprised.

She laughed. "Spell gone wrong. My hair…sort of caught aflame. I had to cut it and restyle. So far, everyone seems to like it."

"Well, all the shemlen _men_," Garen said, winking.

"Yes, yes, as you're so apt to repeat each and every day." Rhiannon rolled her eyes in amusement.

"I wanted to come you three and speak to you," Thayer stated. There would be no easy way to start the conversation. Surely they would know that Seneschal Varel had informed him of their recent secession from the rest of the recruits, which had put a damper on morale. He had never liked being the one to chastise, so he wanted to approach the subject in a way that wouldn't seem overbearing.

"Come sit with me," he said, taking a seat at a large, round, wooden table that was situated within the center of the library.

All three of them shared looks, all of which expressed their equal concern and understanding at what was about to be discussed. Prior to that, however, Thayer wanted to break the ice a bit. He cleared his throat.

"As you know, I left on a personal matter. And in doing so, I realize that I left you all without a direct superior with whom you can truly connect. For that, I'm sorry."

Enid and Garen looked at one another, then down at the table before them. Rhiannon simply nodded.

"Being a mage is difficult," Thayer said, sounding like a broken record. How many times had he heard that from his superiors? He needed to make his words connect—needed them to spark interest. "I heard that there was some…disconnect, beginning to build between you and the other recruits."

"They're scared of us," Garen said. He brushed some of his dark brown hair out of his equally dark eyes. "The looks they give us during mealtimes…during combat training. It's the same look we get everywhere else."

"Why do you think they're scared of you?" Thayer asked.

Enid sighed. "We're apostates, Commander. You know as well as we do that alone creates fear."

"Yes, but you all seemed to be just fine when I was around."

"When the cat is away, the mice will play," Rhiannon said. "Of course they're going to act like that in your presence, ser. They want to please you. Well, you, Alistair and Nathaniel."

"You do realize by slinking away and only speaking with one another doesn't rectify the situation, correct?" Thayer raised an eyebrow. When none of them replied, he chuckled. "Prejudice is something we all know well. However, we all know something they don't: magic is a blessing. Many view it as a taint just as dangerous as the one running through my veins, but it's not. Magic allows us to connect with the very spirit and earth around us. Have you ever explained that to them?"

"No," the three said in unison.

"Have any of you really taken the time to get to know any of the other recruits?"

"I had spent some time with those two recruits Nathaniel found, Alfred and Kaden," Garen explained. "But I felt like a third wheel. They were always talking about dagger techniques and stealth tricks and…"

When he trailed off, Thayer felt a pang in his heart. It surprised him that even as adults, they still struggled with the type of secluding tactics that children employed to keep out people that weren't like them. Enid and Garen had the added struggle of being elves in a predominantly human environment. Thayer wished Velanna was still around—she would have been an excellent role-model for them.

"We all have to learn to work together with our companions so that our strengths and weakness balance one another out," he explained after a moment's thought. "Mages are a force to be reckoned with on their own, but when paired properly with a warrior and a rogue, the damage can be deadly." He smiled. "Look at me and Alistair, for example. It just takes time to build relationships. Stray away from your battle techniques. Engage them on a personal level. Making friends isn't about sharing how you fight. It's about connecting with someone who shares similar traits and hobbies as you do."

He could tell all three of them were mulling over his words in their heads. Rhiannon seemed skeptical from the look on her face, whereas Enid and Garen looked troubled.

"I'm not going anywhere again any time soon," Thayer stated. "I promise. I will work with Alistair and Nathaniel on more morale building exercises so that the three groups and intermingle more and have more time to grow close. But this is going to take more than just something on my part. Do you all understand?"

"Yes," the three said.

"Good. Now, today we'll consider a free day. Do as you please. But tomorrow…tomorrow, be prepared to show me what you three have learned since my departure. I may not have been here, but I will be able to see whatever growth or stagnation has happened to you and your powers. Also, make sure to do your centering exercises. We're always at our most powerful when we have full control of ourselves."

"Now," Thayer said, moving to stand, "I have some other things to attend to now that I'm back. See you all at lunch, right?"

"Right," they confirmed.

Their tone, now more upbeat than before, indicated to Thayer that they were at least on board with what he had told them. Leadership came naturally to him now more than ever, and for that, he was thankful.

After leaving the library he started on his way for the throne room, hoping to find Mistress Woolsey. They needed to discuss the financial state of the arling, and she was the only person who could assist him with that. To his surprise, upon his arrival, he saw not her, but Seneschal Varel—and standing beside Seneschal Varel was a welcome face he hadn't seen for ages.

"Wynne!"

Thayer hurried across the wooden floor and greeted his mentor with a welcoming hug. Her embrace felt warm, comforting. He held on perhaps longer than he should have, but she indulged—and he appreciated every moment of it.

He pulled back with a smile breaking out across his face.

"Thayer, it's good to see you," she said. She wore a smile as well.

"Wynne, what are you doing here? Seneschal, when did she arrive?"

"Just now," Varel said. "I was about to send someone to find you, but it seems I don't have to now. If you'll excuse me,"—he stepped politely back—"I've got a few things to attend to in the basement regarding the Deep Roads entrance. Thayer, we'll speak at lunch."

"Excellent, Seneschal. Thank you." Thayer turned from one friend to the other. He couldn't stop smiling. "Wynne, what a surprise! I can't believe you're here. What brings you all the way to Amaranthine?"

"I'm on my way to Nevarra," Wynne explained. "The College of Magi is meeting there to discuss an issue that's been on the rise for the last couple of months."

"What's the matter?"

"The Libertarians wish to break away from the Chantry completely. As you know, that's not going to go over well, considering the intricate relationship we Circles share with them. Bureaucracy." Wynne scoffed lightly. "At any rate, I was on my way through, and I thought I would stop to say hello to you, since I'll be taking a ship from Amaranthine's port."

"You've arrived just in time. I just got back, actually."

"Oh? From where?"

"Kirkwall."

Wynne raised an eyebrow. "Do tell me more. What took you all the way to Kirkwall?"

In truth, while Thayer knew he could trust Wynne to keep his reasoning private, he didn't want to have to explain what had caused the rift between him and Alistair in the first place. Perceptive as she was, Wynne would see through any holes in his story and would call him out on them. He decided instead to mention Anders, a safe connection.

"A mage named Anders who I met and worked with here in Amaranthine ended up disappearing after our battle…"

Thayer proceeded to explain to her the situation in Amaranthine, as she had not been around to experience it. That led him to discussing Anders, and how he'd left, resurfacing in Kirkwall several months later. He shared with her how he'd come across Hawke and his family there, and for the first time, he saw her expression falter.

"As a complete sidebar," Thayer began, "I…have a very important question to ask you."

Wynne sighed. "I thought this day might come. Please, can we sit?"

Thayer walked with Wynne over to the conference table, taking a seat beside her. Something about her demeanor wasn't sitting well with him—a foreboding feeling grew within.

"Leandra, my mother's cousin, told me about my siblings, Solona and Daylen. I found Solona, but…Daylen, he—"

"He was a part of the Fereldan Circle, yes," Wynne said. She reached forward and placed an aged hand atop Thayer's. She squeezed gently. "But Thayer, you know why the Circle keeps these things under great lock and key, correct?"

"Yes, I understand. But you're the only one aside from Irving who would have an answer. I know you far better. So please…can you tell me about Daylen? Is he still there? Is he doing well?"

The older mage looked away momentarily—in essence, partially answering Thayer's question. Whatever she had to say, it wouldn't be good.

"Daylen was a lovely boy," she started. She frowned. "Very friendly. Very focused. But he never quite adjusted to living in the Circle. Something about it just didn't sit well with him. He…"

Thayer didn't need to hear the rest. A sickening sensation settled into his stomach, making it lurch. He shook his head. "He didn't make it through his Harrowing, did he?"

Wynne's reply was quiet, distant. "No."

Even though logic told Thayer that he'd never known Daylen and thus had no reason to be affected by this news, his heart ached for the loss of the brother he had never met. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. This wasn't good news—surely not what he had anticipated. After the situation with his sister, he'd hoped that something, _anything_, positive would happen with his brother.

"Did you know this when you came along with me to fight the archdemon?"

"Yes," Wynne said. Everything about her demeanor changed: she leaned in, gripped Thayer's hand tighter and even set her other upon his shoulder. She was comforting him, much like a mother would, which only led him to feel more frustration and pain. He didn't even have a true mother who could assuage the shock.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"To spare you the pain." Wynne finally pulled away. She rubbed her eyebrows. "You've been through more than anyone I've ever known, Thayer. To tell you that you had a brother who had to be killed would have only made your journey that much harder."

"But not even before I was conscripted? I could have—_we_ could have—"

"That would have made his death all the more devastating to you."

Thayer wanted to disagree, wanted to argue. It would have been better to at least know his brother, to have those memories! But when logic reminded him that Wynne was right, all it did was serve to upset him further. He realized that what hurt the most was that he hadn't ever had the chance to see him. Had Daylen died alone? Had he died sad? He couldn't have known, either, that he had siblings…

In his frustration, Thayer realized he was clenching his fists. He slowly undid them, trying to bring himself back under control.

"I'm sorry," Wynne said genuinely. "I would have taken this secret to my grave to guard you from the pain. You've been through enough."

Saying thank you should have been the first thing Thayer thought—however at that moment, he found himself uncharacteristically speechless. Something within him just wanted to be _angry_. As much as he may have wanted to, however, he couldn't allow such a powerful feeling to overtake him.

"I understand if you're upset. But please know it was done with the best intentions in mind."

Thayer nodded. He looked away, sighed, and closed his eyes. When he finally turned back to Wynne, he said, "I suppose it's foolish to be upset over the loss of someone I never knew, but I can't help myself."

"And nobody should tell you to. Blood is blood, Thayer. He was family. His death will affect you whether you knew him or not."

"How long has it been?" he asked quietly.

"Quite some time."

"Does he have a resting place?"

"We spread his ashes over the lake, as we do with all the apprentices who don't survive their Harrowing. The Circle was his home; it's only natural he remain there."

Thayer fell silent. At this point, he knew he would need to keep himself occupied. This was yet another loss in his life. He needed to put this pent up energy to use. He wasn't sure how, yet, but he would figure it out soon.

Wynne moved to stand.

"I can't stay long. My guide is waiting outside for me. I should go."

Her imminent departure snapped Thayer back into focus. He, too, stood, and embraced Wynne tightly once more. Their hug lasted long enough to help soothe his troubled thoughts—something he needed desperately.

"Write to me," Thayer said. "Please. To let me know how things go in Nevarra."

"Of course," Wynne agreed. Melancholy pulled at the smile on her face. She brushed her hand over Thayer's cheek. "Do not grieve long, Thayer. You didn't know him. Remember to keep your focus."

"Yes."

Thayer walked with Wynne outside and onto the grounds. A large man stood at the base of the steps, arms folded over his chest. He wore a surprisingly gentle expression. He must have been her guide. Wynne approached him and pointed toward the exit gates briefly before turning to Thayer.

"It was good to see you," she said. "Keep strong. Put your energy into the family you _do_ have."

She made a good point. Fostering his relationship with Garrett seemed much more beneficial. Why he couldn't see that on his own, he didn't know. He supposed that was why he always wished for Wynne's guidance in times of uncertainty: she saw with the type of clarity he could only dream of.

"Good-bye, Wynne," he said to her, smiling faintly. "Safe travels."

"Good-bye, Thayer. Be safe."

. . . . .

As Thayer and Alistair prepared for bed that night, the mage thought about the best way to bring up the subject of Wynne's visit. He and Alistair had talked previously about going to the Circle tower in order to speak with her and Irving about his brother, so this would save them a trip.

But whenever he thought about it, he felt a tightness in his chest. He couldn't describe why, but he knew it had everything to do with the fact that he felt cheated out of time with his brother.

It was a stupid feeling. He'd never known him, after all. And yet, irrational though it was, Thayer couldn't seem to stop.

Unable to keep it inside any more, he blurted it out while undressing.

"Wynne stopped by the keep today."

Alistair, surprised, slipped off his shirt and tossed it over a nearby chair. "Really? How is the old bat?"

"Old bat? Alistair, really?"

"Oh, you know I'm only teasing." He snorted, half-smiling. He wasn't being entirely honest, Thayer could tell. But he let it go. "What was she doing here?"

"Apparently she has a conference in Nevarra she's attending. She stopped by on her way through to say hello."

"How nice of her. She must not have stayed long, though. Didn't see her at lunch or dinner."

"No, she could only stay a few minutes." Thayer slipped into bed, pulling the down comforter up and over his chest. "I…asked her about my brother."

Alistair's curiosity seemed to pique. He, too, climbed into bed, moving close to his partner. "Oooh, details, love, details! What did she say?"

Thayer frowned. "Daylen's…"

"_Oh._"

He nodded. "He didn't survive his Harrowing."

Alistair reached out and brought Thayer close to him. "I'm sorry, love. Guess that's zero for two, isn't it?"

"I think that bothers me most is that I never got a chance to know him. Or even meet him, for that matter. With Solona, I could always build a relationship. Daylen…" Thayer trailed off. Thinking about it now didn't upset him so much as depress him. It was disappointing to think he would never speak with his sibling; that he would never get to help him deal with being a mage.

Curling in to Alistair's touch, Thayer continued, "Wynne gave me good advice. She suggested focusing on the family I _do_ have."

"Wait, does that mean you're going to start communicating with Solona now?"

"Maybe in the future. But no, I mean Garrett. I'm going to keep in regular contact with him."

"Oh. Okay. Gonna write him?"

"Mm-hmm."

Alistair began idly running his fingers through Thayer's hair. He rested his head against his pillow and sighed comfortably. "Well, more power to you, then. In the meantime, I'll just…fall asleep."

Thayer chuckled. He closed his eyes, leaning in to the touch.

He resolved to write to Hawke tomorrow.


	15. Return to Amaranthine

**Author's Notes: Hi all. Sorry this chapter took so long to post-I just have had a very busy last few weeks thanks to the retail world. I promise to be more on top of it :) If not, just bug me. The story is done, I just need to post it all.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Over the course of the following few years, Thayer fell back into the groove of maintaining his arling. With Alistair by his side once again, ruling over Amaranthine proved to be much easier, and significantly less stressful. He worked closely with Seneschal Varel and Mistress Woolsey to ensure that Amaranthine maintained its status and continued to grow. Thayer hadn't considered himself to be business savvy, but with their assistance, it became much simpler to handle the day to day and to learn what mattered most in balancing the needs of the city versus those of the arling.<p>

He, along with Alistair and Nathaniel, helped to prepare a single dozen recruits for the Joining ritual. From the twelve, they gained seven new Wardens, bringing their number to just over twenty, including themselves. They mourned those they lost, including Thayer's own mentee, Rhiannon. However, with new fully-fledged Wardens, they were able to send parties into the Deep Roads to help ensure that the darkspawn threat remained neutralized.

Thayer kept in regular correspondence with his cousin, Garrett. He knew that Garrett would be busy with his own concerns, but he had taken Wynne's advice to heart: _Put your energy into the family you _do_ have._ Garrett seemed content to write back when time permitted. From the sound of it, things in Kirkwall were going about as well as they could. Hawke mentioned some rising tension between the citizens of Kirkwall and the Qunari, but he didn't much elaborate. In his writing, even more than in his conversations, Garrett was rather succinct.

It wasn't until the year came to an end that Hawke finally explained what had happened. Without being present, the details provided seemed somewhat disconnected. Thayer didn't fully understand the plight of his cousin's companion, Isabela, and how she had stolen some artifact that actually belonged to the Qunari. All he knew was that it had resulted in a bloody mess, out of which Hawke and his companions miraculously escaped in one piece. Hawke had expressed disappointment in not having Thayer there to help, but he explained that he understood.

In truth, on some level, Thayer wished he _had_ been there. His life had been nonstop since being conscripted—full of action of all types. The day to day of being an arl wasn't exactly the most stimulating lifestyle, especially for someone who had at several points in his life almost literally met death in the face.

Despite all of the combat training and preparations for another possible, but unlikely, darkspawn invasion, Thayer had begun to feel listless. Winter rolled through without so much as a single attack, giving way to an equally dull spring.

On some level he knew that Alistair and Nathaniel felt it, too; the three of them often spent their meetings sharing stories of their adventures and their exploits. The more time that passed, the more commonplace it became for them to try and one-up each other by telling another embellished tale.

Thayer had thought of going in search of Leliana several times. Though he knew she would never return, on a deeper level he hoped that she might. Not to mention, he really just wanted to get out and see more of Thedas. He had explored most of Ferelden, parts of Orlais and had only been to one city in the Free Marches. Nathaniel's tales of his years there did nothing to help squash the vagabond building within the mage.

And yet, he never actively brought up the subject with his partner, Alistair.

Not until tonight.

They were lying on their bed, under the covers, preparing to go to sleep. Thayer had his head propped up on his arm and was drawing circles and squares upon Alistair's chest and stomach. The cool, late spring breeze brought along with it the sounds of insects and birds bustling around in the night.

"Things seem to be going rather well here, aren't they?" Thayer said.

"It'd seem so. All thanks to our golden touches, of course."

"Do you remember long ago when you told me you'd go around Thedas with me?"

Alistair glanced over at the dark haired one. He smirked. "Why am I not surprised you'd bring this up? Nathaniel's stories about the Free Marches have been getting you _all_ excited lately."

"They have not," Thayer denied automatically. "I just…well. We've been here for well over a year now and things are going all right. I think they could do without us for a few weeks."

"A few weeks where, exactly?"

"I don't know. Nevarra. Antiva. The Anderfels."

"The Anderfels?" Alistair snorted. "Is your idea of a vacation fighting darkspawn?"

Thayer groaned. "I just need to get out of this place."

"Oh, you and me both, love." Alistair reached out and stopped Thayer's hand, idly fidgeting with his fingers. "We're hardened war veterans. We killed an archdemon. Now we're bogged down in daily politics. This pretty face is meant to be out there maiming evil, not choosing pasta Fridays and breaking up fights."

The mage grinned. "Pasta Fridays?"

"What? The cook was talking about it the other day…"

Thayer laughed. "You spend entirely too much time in the kitchen."

"Yeah, well, you knew I liked to eat when you met me." The warrior stuck out his tongue. "Anyway. So. Nevarra or Antiva, hm?"

"Maybe we'll run into Zevran."

"Good call. I wonder how Mister Lascivious is doing with his mission…"

Thayer closed his eyes and leaned into his pillow, letting his arm fall against the bed. As Alistair continued to play with the fingers on his free hand, he felt sleepiness begin to take him over.

"Antiva it is, then. We can leave at the end of the week…"

. . . . .

After breakfast that morning Thayer returned to the throne room for his daily meeting with Seneschal Varel and Captain Garevel. As was typical at the beginning of the week, they were interrupted by the arrival of a private who acted as a messenger for incoming post. She rifled through her collection of letters and finally came across one addressed to Thayer.

"Warden-Commander," she said, extending him the slightly worn envelope. "This just arrived from Kirkwall today."

Kirkwall. It must have been from Garrett.

"Thank you, private," he told her, dismissing her once she'd delivered a set of letters to both the seneschal and captain.

By this time, aside from Alistair and Nathaniel, only the two men sitting before him were aware of what Thayer had found in Kirkwall. He kept Hawke's identity secret from his recruits and the junior Wardens, not wanting them to concern themselves with business that didn't relate to them.

When it came to guessing the origin of the letter, Varel hit it right on the head.

"Your cousin, I presume?"

"Mm-hmm. Gentlemen, if you don't mind, I'm going to read his letter right quick before we begin our meeting."

"By all means," Garevel said.

Thayer retrieved his letter opener from the table before him and used it to slice open the wax seal on the back. When he opened it, he immediately took notice of how much Hawke had written. It was unlike him to be so long-winded. That made him wonder.

_Thayer,_

_Sorry I haven't written recently. Things in Kirkwall have been rather complicated, and that's putting it nicely. _

_Tension is mounting here. You can feel it everywhere you go. Knight-Commander Meredith is pressing down on the Circle each and every day, harder and harder. First Enchanter Orsino is struggling to maintain his composure under her vice grip. Her rules have become almost impossible to adhere to. I've begun to see the number of tranquil mages grow as the days go by. It worries me that whatever may be coming down the road is not only inevitable, but also incredibly dangerous._

_Anders has been acting stranger than usual recently. I know I don't typically write about him in our correspondence but lately I can't seem to get him to sit still. He's always fidgeting, moving—like he's waiting for something to happen. I've asked him time and time again what the problem is but he won't tell me. I was wondering perhaps if it had to do with him being kidnapped by those rebels I wrote about in my last letter, but he insists I'm only imagining things. _

_It sounds as if you have everything under control in Amaranthine. I'm glad to hear your numbers have increased. Having many Wardens present will surely help keep things running smoothly. _

_Listen. I have a request of you. At the rate things are going, I can't guarantee that Kirkwall will be around much longer. If Meredith has her way, all mages will be oppressed beyond recognition. If you can come here, if together we can show her that mages are not the problem and can be part of the solution, maybe she'll lighten up. If not, at the very least, we'll get to knock some sense into her. Hopefully. You __are__ the Warden-Commander of Ferelden, after all. As a warrior I'm sure she'll respect your authority._

_I understand if you can't. On some level, I'm hoping the thrill of the possible battle will bring you in. Whatever the case, I could use your help._

_Hope all is well, cousin. Write me back soon._

_-Garrett_

Thayer folded up the letter, managing to maintain a straight face despite the dozens of thoughts that started rumbling around in his head. He looked to Varel, then Garevel, and cleared his throat.

"Everything all right, Commander?" Varel asked.

"My cousin has some concerns regarding a few goings-on in Kirkwall. I may have to go visit him here shortly."

"We're in a good position right now," Varel continued. He smiled, perhaps a bit cheekily. "So long as you don't disappear again for months on end again, we should be fine."

"What sort of concerns does he have?" Garevel asked. "I've heard there's unrest in Kirkwall with the Knight-Commander. Rumors travel fast."

"He didn't say. He just asked that I come and offer my opinion, maybe some assistance."

"Mm. Well, it's your choice, Commander."

Thayer eyed Varel, who gave a nod in agreement.

"Alistair and I had discussed taking a leave of absence, at any rate," he explained. "Seeing more of Thedas."

"Just say the word, Commander, and we'll keep watch for you. Nathaniel can keep an eye on the Wardens," Varel said.

"I need to speak with him here soon so we can finalize the details. I'll have a decision by the end of the night."

And with that, their meeting commenced. They discussed the importance of the revitalization project planned for Amaranthine, as well as the refurbishment of the ports. They shared their concerns with making sure there was adequate funding for it, and even had a mild argument involving the level of importance of strengthening trade in Vigil's Keep.

Thayer's mind, however, remained just distanced enough throughout the entirety of the meeting that by the end, he could scarcely recall but a single topic at hand. Thankfully for him, neither Seneschal Varel nor Captain Garevel felt like quizzing him. He knew the luck wouldn't last; he needed to find Alistair and discuss what Garret had told him, and quickly.

He wandered through the different locations of the keep, not entirely sure where Alistair might go at this time of the day. He never followed a set schedule, much to the chagrin of his partner.

Thayer happened upon the blond warrior inside the library, of all places. He wondered what he was doing in here. Alistair avoided books like the plague whenever he could. To actively seek them out…what had gotten into him?

"Fancy meeting you here," the mage said curiously, his eyebrows rising as he approached Alistair at his small round table, around which stood several large, ancient-looking bookcases. "Enjoying some light reading, hm?"

Alistair grinned bashfully. "I'm looking up things about Nevarra, if you really must know. Thought it would be good if we knew what to expect when we go."

Thayer couldn't help it—he felt his expression falter just slightly.

And that was all Alistair needed to realize something was amiss.

"I don't like that look," he said. "You get it whenever something's gone wrong. Tell me nothing's gone wrong."

"It's not exactly that, per se," the mage said, sighing. He took a seat beside his partner. "I…got a letter from Garrett."

"And?"

"And he said something is not right. He says there's an insurmountable level of tension building between the Templars and the mages back in Kirkwall. He asked if I could go there and appeal to the Knight-Commander. You know, using my status as Warden-Commander."

"Isn't he some grand hero of Kirkwall?" Alistair asked with slight exasperation.

"Yes, but two is better than one. And on a topic like this, it hits close to home."

Thayer rubbed his wrists. Why any mage would willingly choose to live in Kirkwall when there were other Circles around Thedas made so sense to him. The treatment of the magically inclined in that state was beyond poor. It was no wonder Anders was so worked up over it all.

Alistair closed the book before him and made a face. "Do you _promise_ we'll go to Nevarra afterward? All of this work and no play will eventually make me mental. You know that, right?"

"I promise. I just won't be able to sleep at night if I don't go and help Garrett out somehow."

"What about Garevel and Varel? Are they going to let you go, knowing what happened last time?"

Thayer huffed. "Need I remind you that I'm the Warden-Commander and can make decisions without the approval of others?"

Alistair smirked. Immediately Thayer flushed. That was not the response he'd intended.

"Oh, the _Warden-Commander_ can make such decisions, hm? Well! Who am I to disagree?"

"So I can count on you to come along with me?"

The blond stood, putting himself at the ready. Even though he only wore finery, he still looked like quite the dedicated warrior, with his shoulders squared and his brow set firmly.

"Thayer Amell, I'm by your side through thick and thin."

Thayer smiled.

"Then I guess we had best get packing."


	16. The Big Boom

**Author's Notes: Retail has finally let me go from holiday, YAY. I exist again, aside from sleeping for 10 hours just to recover from what I was going through. As such, here is the next chapter of the story. Hope you all enjoy :) **

**Gatorsnacks: This chapter will answer that very question! *cough* **

* * *

><p>"No more traveling by boat. No more. Not unless we own a private one."<p>

Thayer's legs wobbled as he stood upon solid ground for the first time in over a week. Coming into Kirkwall was impossible any other way besides boat, a fact which didn't sit well with him. At all.

He brushed his hands down the front of his robes. They needed to be washed—terribly. They were somewhat encrusted with sea water and brine, and the distinct scent of body odor clung to them, not only from himself, but some of the other passengers, as well.

It was certainly no way to travel…not for somebody of his station.

Thayer shook his head. He'd been playing 'Arl of Amaranthine' for too long. He'd fallen into the same privileged pitfall as those he'd promised to never become. So much for that.

Alistair stretched his arms out wide beside him. "Yes, yes, love, you say the same thing every time. We'll teleport next time, how's that sound?"

"Oh, right. Make fun of the weak-stomached."

Thayer was smiling, though, because as he spoke he saw his cousin jogging up the boardwalk toward where their ship had docked.

"Thayer! Alistair!"

"Garrett! What a sight for sore eyes!"

Seeing Garrett helped to mask Thayer's discomfort, if just for a moment. The two men embraced in a brief, but loving hug, and when they broke apart, they clasped their hands together in a firm shake.

And then Garrett laughed.

"Oy, you smell like the sea. You need a bath."

Thayer snorted. "You're telling me. I've only been drenched by salt water four times over by now."

"And it's all I've heard for the last week or so," Alistair added. "You know, the usual."

After giving Alistair a playful nudge, Thayer followed Garrett away from the boardwalk and up the long staircase that led into Lowtown. Even on a beautiful day, with not a cloud in the sky, the energy around the city felt oppressive and heavy. The usually bustling streets were far emptier than Thayer remembered them. This must have been the effect of all the issues Garrett had written about in his letters.

Alistair shuddered visibly as they stopped to take a breath outside the Hanged Man.

"Is it just me, or does everybody seem on edge?"

"This is what I was talking about," Garrett said. He glanced around them briefly. "We'll talk more about it once we get to the estate."

It wasn't until a good while later that the three men finally arrived at the Hawke estate. Thayer was relieved to see that not much had changed since the last time he'd visited. Aside from an additional portrait here and a potted plant there, the estate had remained largely the same. As they passed through the main hall toward the sitting room, he noticed Bodahn and Sandal sitting near the fireplace, reading a book together. It made him smile.

Hawke ushered them into the sitting room, toward the upper level where they housed a good portion of their books. In an odd way, it felt like coming home. Thayer couldn't quite explain it; it was a comforting sensation.

"So is everybody in the city a zombie, or what?" Alistair asked bluntly upon sitting down. "They all look like they might just as soon eat my brains as talk to me. It's terrifying."

Garrett tried not to laugh. "No, nothing like that. But everyone is being extraordinarily careful. As I told Thayer, after the viscount's murder and Meredith's rise to power, it takes very little to set off an alarm nowadays."

Garrett briefed Alistair and Thayer in more detail what had happened in Kirkwall since their departure, focusing primarily on Meredith's growing suspicions, accusations and condemnations. He spoke with vivid detail of her disgusting practice of making mages tranquil without proper evidence, and how it had expanded not only to apostates, but to many within the Circle, as well. That, of course, didn't sit right with Thayer, who couldn't help thinking that Meredith had far overstepped her boundaries. She was one step away from invoking the Rite of Annulment, outrageous as that might be.

And what of Solona, he wondered?

"Do you know if anything happened to my sister?" he asked.

"Your sister?" Garrett scratched his jaw, appearing confused. "Oh, right, Solona. As far as I know, she's just fine. Orsino likely would have told me so I could pass on the news, otherwise."

Thayer breathed a sigh of relief. Though he had yet to actually contact her, this scare was as good as any to help him write that first letter.

"Meredith even asked me at one point to help her find some mages on the run," Garrett continued. He set his jaw. "I couldn't believe her gall. She wanted me to help find escaped mages so she could make them tranquil. It's sick." He shook his head. "Now you can see why I asked you here. I was hoping that, between the two of us, we could appeal to her and prove to her that not all mages are walking bombs awaiting detonation. Or, at the very least, perhaps we could offer our assistance in helping her find a new viscount…"

Thayer could see the discomfort and anxiety in his cousin's weary eyes. Though they weren't far apart in age, Garrett looked so much older in that moment. He was hunched over with his hand cupped over his mouth and his brow furrowed.

"When do you think would be best to speak with her?" Alistair inquired.

"We could go to the Gallows at any time, I suppose," Garrett said. He let his hand fall upon the table's surface. "Meredith has her templars do her dirty work for her. She's always in her barracks, somewhere."

The two Fereldans nodded. Thayer leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. This was a delicate situation that required a very careful approach. If they took one misstep, who knew what could happen?

"Messere Hawke?"

All three men turned their attention to the doorway. There stood Bodahn, grasping an aged envelope in his hands.

"Sorry to interrupt, Messere, but you've received a note from First Enchanter Orsino. It was delivered by a mage just a moment ago. Seemed rather urgent, so I wanted to make sure you got it right away."

"Thank you, Bodahn. I'll take it now."

Bodahn delivered the parchment letter to Garrett, who cracked open the wax seal and read over the words. He blanched, the telltale sign that something had either gone wrong, or…well, horribly wrong.

"What is it?" Thayer asked.

"It would seem Orsino and Meredith are about to launch this miscommunication into full blown war. We have to get to Lowtown, immediately."

. . . . .

It happened faster than anyone could have predicted.

Thayer stood by and watched in horror as two pillars of light burst from the chantry. Within moments the building cracked, burst and exploded into thousands of pieces, only to be lifted into the air and expelled away. Where once stood a majestic and glorious piece of architecture now was nothing but a black cloud against a shrouded grey backdrop.

Amidst all of the shocked cries of surprise came the wail of Knight-Commander Meredith: "Maker have mercy!"

First Enchanter Orsino turned and faced Anders, eyes alight with rage. "Why did you do that? How could you do that!"

"I've removed the option of compromise," Anders said. "There _is_ no compromise."

"You've destroyed the chantry…_slain_ the grand cleric through your morbid abuse of magic." Meredith's voice cracked with rage. She balled her hands into fists and shook her head. "As Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, I hereby invoke the Right of Annulment. Any and all mage in the city is to be executed—_immediately_!"

"No!" Orsino cried. "You can't! The Circle had nothing to do with this, _nothing_! Champion!" He turned to face Hawke. "Make her see reason! Please!"

"He will stand with me or face the consequences!" Meredith shouted.

Neither Meredith nor Orsino seemed to exist to Hawke at that moment. Thayer watched his cousin turn all of his attention to Anders, his face contorted with disgust.

"Is that—is _that_ why you needed me to distract the grand cleric?"

Anders' expression hardened. "It's too late now. What's done is done."

"Their innocent blood is on _your_ hands!" Hawke exclaimed.

"You've doomed us all!" Orsino added.

"We're all going to die soon, anyway," Anders growled. "A fast death now or a slow one later. I'd rather die fighting."

Meredith scoffed.

Tension hung in the air, near palpable. Thayer felt his palms beginning to sweat. He never would have thought this possible. How could Anders do something so radical, so _violent_? In that moment he was a completely different person, and just the sight of him made the Warden-Commander sick. He hated himself for feeling such a way, but how could he not? So many innocent people were murdered. It was terrifying.

"As upsetting an incident as this is, I will not stand by and watch more innocents be slaughtered simply because of the actions of _one_ mage," Hawke said, bringing the attention back to himself. "Meredith, I cannot help you. The answer to slaughter is _not_ more slaughter. The Circle mages had nothing to do with it."

"The actions of one will rally the many!" Meredith shouted. She looked to her guards; her words, however, were directed at Orsino, whose disdain was etched clearly upon his face. "So be it! If it's a fight you want, it is a fight you will get!"

Meredith turned to take her leave. "You had best prepare, Orsino. Any mage found will be executed on the spot."

"Go!" Orsino said to the mages standing behind him. "We must protect the others!"

Thayer couldn't explain what happened next. People were flying left and right, all moving in multiple directions. Before he knew it they were alone, down to a group of less than ten. He saw Alistair, Hawke, Anders, Fenris, Aveline, Merrill, Isabela and Varric. All of them wore differing expressions, but all seemed uncomfortable—betrayed by one of their very own.

"I'm sorry, Garrett," Anders finally said.

Alistair groaned loudly. "You _destroyed_ the c_hantry_! _Killed_ hundreds of innocent people! And you're _sorry_?"

"Enough!"

Hawke's deep voice reverberated through the street. Everyone fell silent at its deafening tone.

Garrett stared at Anders with visible pain in his eyes. "Why, Anders? _Why_?"

Anders spoke quietly, but firmly. "The world needs to see that the Circle isn't an option. It's condemnation."

"I _might_ have understood, had you told me what your plans were."

"And risk letting you stop me? Or worse, become a part of it?" Anders shook his head. "I couldn't allow that to happen. I did what had to be done because it was the only thing that _could_ be done. If I pay with my life for it, then so be it. I'm ready to accept my fate. Let my sacrifice be the catalyst for a revolution."

Alistair opened his mouth to speak again but Thayer gripped his arm to quiet him. Now was neither the time nor the place for another comment.

Garrett looked at his companions. They all remained silent, save for Fenris, who shrugged his shoulders.

"If he's ready to die, then kill him and let us be done with it. A war is about to break out, and I, for one, would like to prepare myself."

The beseeching look Thayer's cousin gave Aveline, his longtime friend and Captain of the guard, fell short. She agreed with Fenris' sentiments.

"Nothing excuses what he's done, even if it was in the name of the greater good. Too many lie dead because of him."

Finally, Garrett turned to Thayer. The uncertainty in his cousin's eyes bored deeply within him. He wanted to say yes, to say Anders was worth saving, but when he looked around him, when he looked at the gaping hole where the chantry once was, he wavered.

Anders was his friend. Thayer had conscripted him all that time ago, saving him from a life of condemnation. He had fought beside him through moments of unspeakable difficulty, and had given him purpose. Anders was a joyful, happy-go-lucky man who, somehow over the years, had become jaded and radical.

This was cold-blooded murder. There could be no redemption for such a cruel act—not even when done in the name of revolution.

Thayer didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do. He shook his head and bit his lip, as if to say: _This is your decision._

Hawke placed his hand on Anders' shoulder. The two stared at each other in silence for a long while. An unspoken agreement must have come to pass between them, as they shared a lingering kiss and a loving hug. As Hawke began to pull back, a fireball formed in his hand. Without warning he pushed it into Anders' stomach, burning his flesh and mortally wounding him.

The blond haired mage stumbled back with a grunt. He looked down at the bleeding wound in his stomach, then to Hawke, and finally, to Thayer. His eyes did not show any remorse; on the contrary, he looked at peace, as if he'd made right by himself with his decision. As Anders fell to the ground, he wrapped his arms around his stomach and cried out. His entire being flashed blue, crackled, then sizzled out. In mere moments he fell silent, motionless upon the stone ground beneath him.

"Good-bye," Thayer whispered under his breath, clutching Alistair's arm.

It was never easy watching someone die, especially someone who was close to you. His throat burned but he kept his eyes dry—the Anders he knew wouldn't want tears. He'd want action.

Hawke stared down at his lover's body. After a few moments of silence he set his jaw and squared his shoulders. He turned around to address his team. Thayer could see the hurt in his normally kind eyes, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"We need to go confront Meredith," Garrett said. "Her tyranny cannot go on any longer. Know now that You're either with me or you're not. If you don't want to battle by my side, then please, take your leave."

"Always by your side, Hawke," the dwarf Varric said. He lifted up his crossbow and gave him a wink.

"You have my blade," Aveline said. "Now and always, Hawke."

Hawke's other companions gave their encouraging murmurs of agreement. Afterward, Garrett turned an expectant eye to Thayer and Alistair.

"By your side, cousin," Thayer said. He looked briefly at Alistair, who nodded in agreement despite the tightness in his own jaw. He was glad to know that Alistair could put aside his disgust for Anders' actions and think of saving more innocent people from an untimely death. "You have us both."

"Good. Then let's go show that bitch who she's messing with."

Hawke squared his shoulders one more time before stalking through his group of friends. Before they left the area completely, Thayer looked back at Anders' lifeless body, feeling a twinge of sorrow ripple through him.

Another friend lost.

Was this ever going to end?


	17. Legacy

**Author's Notes: All right everyone, this is it! This is the final chapter. I can't believe this story is coming to an end. It's been a fun ride, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Though this is short, it remains one of my favorite parts of the story. The friendship that grew between Thayer and Garrett really surprised me-It blossomed far more than I ever thought possible. **

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>The final confrontation with Meredith had effectively wiped out a good portion of the Gallows in lower Kirkwall. Her lyrium blade had caused more than its fair share of damage and trouble, but the combined powers of Thayer, Alistair, Hawke and his companions, along with several other helpful sources, overthrew Meredith and her reign of terror.<p>

In her stead, Cullen was named Knight-Commander. He had come a long way from being a single Templar posted outside the Fereldan Circle Tower, which was a feat in itself. Hard work and persistence clearly had paid off for him.

But despite all of the cheers and celebrations over the end of her tyrannical rampage, Thayer's mind remained elsewhere.

At the end of the battle, after all was said and done, they returned to the Hawke estate to celebrate. Garrett remained part of the festivities until the party began to die off, after which point he disappeared. Nobody seemed to notice aside from Thayer, who took it upon himself to locate him. It took quite some time searching to do so. Thayer located his cousin on the back veranda attached to his mother's bedroom—the one room he'd specifically stated after her death that he would not be entering for a long time.

"Clever hiding spot," he told the other dark haired man, stepping out into the warm night air.

"Well. If anyone was going to find me, I knew it would be you."

Hawke loosely linked his hands together behind his back. He stared over the sprawling city of Kirkwall beneath him. In the distance, one could see the damage done to the Gallows. Smoke still billowed from fires that had finally begun to dissipate. To the east was another dark cloud of smoke thanks to the chantry's explosion.

Neither man said anything for some time. Thayer wanted his presence to simply sink in. He would wait until Hawke was prepared to speak.

Which apparently was happening sooner rather than later.

"I can't believe what's happened."

"Me, either. We're in quite the pickle."

Garrett laughed. "Quite the pickle? Well, when you put it that way…"

He made a good point. With their chapel destroyed and Meredith taken down, Thayer knew the Chantry would view the happenings as a direct attack against them as a whole. The fight between the Templars and the mages that had been on the rise for years would finally escalate beyond proportion, perhaps even into a full out war.

_Oh, yes_, Thayer thought. This was quite the pickle.

"Do you regret what you've done?" Thayer asked, looking at his cousin in the dimly lit night.

"Not for a moment," Garrett replied. "Perhaps Anders was right. Perhaps it's better now that the Chantry sees we aren't willing to be oppressed anymore. Too many people died tonight."

Thayer's stomach tightened. "And what about Anders? Do you regret that?"

Hawke sighed. He remained silent for quite a while. When the silence broke, he spoke with a completive tone.

"I will never get over having to kill him, I think. I loved him, Thayer. I truly did. You know that." He turned to his cousin. To his surprise, Thayer saw raw, powerful emotion gleaming in his eyes. It did not disappear, even when Hawke glanced away. "But what he did was unforgivable. To slaughter so many innocent people just to prove a point…in the end, it was no better than Meredith. Innocents don't deserve to be harmed in the name of radical progress. It only incites more fear and loathing."

"Anders was a good man," Thayer said. "I feel as though his merging with Justice skewed that."

"I don't for one minute," Garrett said quickly. He looked down at the polished surface of the veranda's floor. "Nothing Anders did was solely due to Justice. The spirit simply amplified what was already there. He lived a troubled life, cousin. Some of the things he'd told me about his past…I'm not surprised what happened, happened. Maybe I turned a blind eye to it because of love."

Thayer couldn't help but be curious. "Would you have truly helped him?"

"I'll never know. In the heat of the moment, I could have been persuaded, I think. Hell, to save the love of my life, I very _well_ could have persuaded. But watching all of those people just…_die_…" Garrett shook his head. "Aveline was right. Nothing could justify the means, not even the end of the oppressive Circle."

He shook his head, closing his eyes. "I'll miss him each and every day, but he understood what had to be done. Eventually I'll come to accept it fully, too. Maybe."

"What will you do now?"

"I don't know. I helped destroy countless pieces of property. I was an unwitting accomplice in the destruction of the longest standing building in the nation, and the consequent death of dozens of innocent people. I suppose I'm a rebel again. A criminal."

"In that case, where will you go?"

"Anywhere but here," Garrett replied. "It's only a matter of days before Cullen takes over Meredith's position completely and is pressured to take action against me for all the damages done." He looked up into the starry sky. "I have no mother any more. No father. No sister. Then there's my brother, who's gone back with his Warden companions. My only family here in Kirkwall is my Uncle Gamlen, who would rather have nothing more to do with me than I him."

"You have me, though."

Hawke smiled faintly. "I suppose that's true, isn't it? Maybe I should just abandon Kirkwall and go back to Ferelden with you. I miss it there."

"You could always help me train the next group of Magi Wardens," Thayer suggested. "We'd just have to find some place to hide you, as I imagine they'll go right for me to figure out your location."

"What a legacy, hm? I come to Kirkwall as a nobody, become the city's champion and then manage to lose it all in one fell swoop. Well, assuming that I'm right about Cullen having to indict me."

The idea hit Thayer like a ton of bricks. "What if I spoke with Carver's superiors about having him brought back to Ferelden to serve under my order?"

For the first time in ages, a true smile appeared on Hawke's face. "That'd be quite nice, I daresay. Supposing Carver isn't too big for his britches now as a Warden."

"Lots of decisions lie ahead of us," Thayer said. "But at least we're not alone, right? We're family."

"And family sticks together."

Never in a million years would Thayer have thought his path would lead him to standing where he did at that exact moment. However, what he did know was that things happened for a reason. Who knew where his path would lead him now? Who knew where Garrett's would lead him?

The uncertainty of the future ahead, though daunting, remained a challenge that Thayer knew he would happily see head on. With his family and friends by his side, he knew things would be all right.

His journey was far from over.


End file.
